My mouth drops open in shock; I can’t believe he’s serious. That he’s real. I never thought guys like this actually existed.
“So, you’re not mad at me?” I ask stupidly, wondering where all that bolstering confidence I had when he stormed in here has gone.
“I never, ever want to put you in the same position your ex did—feeling like you have to do what I say and like you can’t make your own decisions and do what you want to do. I’m not mad, Cin. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
I can’t stop the tears that pool in my eyes, but I quickly blink them away.
“Okay, then why in the hell did you come here, slamming doors and ordering Ariel around and glaring at me?”
He closes his eyes for a few seconds and takes a few deep breaths, his chest brushing against mine with each inhale. When he finally opens them again, he removes one hand from the wall and traces his fingertips over my forehead and down the side of my face until he’s cupping my cheek in his hand.
“That wasn’t anger. That was frustration,” he mutters.
I look at him in confusion, and he pushes his body harder against mine until I’m completely trapped, with the wall against my back and the solid mass of him pressing into me from my chest to my thighs. He bends his knees and then pushes back up against me until I feel his rock-hard arousal against my core, and I let out a small whimper.
My hands wedge between us and I slide my palms up his muscular chest, clutching fistfuls of his shirt into my hands and tugging his face closer, until his mouth is hovering over mine.
“Do you have any idea how hard it was to sit in the back corner of the room with a table full of customers, listening to them talk about your body and the way you moved it? Do you have any idea how much self-control it took to stay in my seat, watch you grind against that fucking pole and not jerk myself off under the table? Jesus Christ, Cin,” he mutters, his hand sliding down my cheek, over the side of my neck until he gets to the opening of my satin robe, resting it right over the swell of my breast, pushed up and ridiculously perky thanks to the amazing bra I’m wearing. “I’ve been trying so hard the last few weeks to take it slow with you, to show you what it’s like to have someone worship your body and not care about anything but giving you pleasure, but watching you tonight . . . you make it really fucking hard to do the right thing and be a gentleman. I wasn’t mad at you when I came in here, I was annoyed that Ariel was here and we weren’t alone. I was irritated that I couldn’t do the things to you I’d been fantasizing about as soon as I saw you take that fucking stage.”
Never in my life did I think words could be such a turn-on. I’m so wet right now my thong might need to be wrung out.
Letting go of the grip I have on his shirt, I bring my hands to the belt of my robe, never taking my eyes off of PJ. I watch his face as he glances down to see what I’m doing. I watch his eyes darken when I slowly untie my robe. I watch that muscle tick in his jaw when I spread it open, exposing the tiny scrap of material that barely covers me between my legs, and my lace-covered breasts, my hardened nipples visible through the material. I watch his mouth drop open and hear him groan when I lean away from the wall to slide the robe off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor.
Wrapping my fingers around the wrist of his hand, which still rests against my chest, I add pressure and slowly move it down. Over my breast and across my stomach, his wrist twisting as it skims down my body until his fingers are pointing down, and I continue helping him move his hand, pushing his fingers under the front, lace-scalloped edge of my thong until he’s exactly where I want him, and he can feel how much I need him.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters before pressing his lips to mine as the tips of his fingers gently circle through my wetness.
“In case there’s any confusion, I don’t really need you to be a gentleman right now,” I speak softly against his lips, rolling my hips forward as two of his fingers slip inside of me.
I let out a low moan, letting go of his wrist while he slowly works his fingers in and out of me, wrapping both of my arms around his shoulders, remembering what Ariel made me do in my kitchen the other day.
Tilting my head forward, I move my mouth to the side of his face and press my lips against his ear.
“I just need you to fuck me against this wall,” I whisper.
Chapter 24: Golden Shower Man
As soon as the bold, whispered words leave me, PJ pulls his face back and slams his mouth against mine. When his tongue dives into my mouth, I suck it in deeper and put everything I have into this kiss.
I want him to know there’s no turning back. I want him to know I need this. I want him to know no one has ever made me feel the way he does.
I groan in frustration when he yanks his fingers out of me and moves his hand from between my thighs, but then I feel him tugging on the side of my lace thong. He strengthens the kiss, sweeping his tongue slow and deep through my mouth as he yanks as hard as he can on my thong.
“OW! Son of a bitch!” I shout, pulling my mouth away from his as the lace digs into the side of my hip.
“Sorry! Shit. I was trying to be all cool and rip these fuckers off you, but Jesus Christ what are they made out of, steel?” he mutters in annoyance, looking down between us as he continues to pull and tug at the material that refuses to tear.
“Okay, that sounds hot and all in theory, but for the love of God just take them off!”
Without hesitation, he grabs onto the lace on both sides of my hips and yanks them down my thighs. I wiggle my body until they fall the rest of the way down and pool at my feet, where I kick them away, grabbing onto the front of his shirt and hauling him back against me to kiss him.
As his tongue tangles with mine again, I feel his body shake against me as he reaches between us and undoes his pants. I let go of his shirt long enough to help him push his pants and boxer briefs down just far enough for his cock to spring out, and pull my mouth away from his to look down.
“Oh, thank God,” I mutter with a relieved sigh, as I hear the crinkle of foil and he rips open a condom wrapper. I have no idea where he pulled it from, and I don’t care.
“Why are you looking at my cock and thanking God like that?” he asks as I watch him quickly sheath his impressive length with the condom.
“Just glad it’s not crooked or covered with troll hair,” I mumble, shaking my head at him when he looks at me in confusion. “Nothing. Just hurry up.”
I don’t even care how desperate I sound. I am desperate. I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for this moment—to be wanted this much and to have sex somewhere other than in a bed, missionary style.
He wraps his fist around the base of his cock and his other arm slides around my body, lifting me up against him and sliding me up the wall until I have to wrap my legs around his waist. My chest heaves with every breath I take as I hold onto his shoulders and stare down between us, watching him slowly inch toward me until the head of his cock is pressing against my opening.
“Just wanna warn you, this is going to be hard, fast and dirty. I want this to be good for you, but Jesus Christ I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to last once I’m inside you, so I’m apologizing ahead of time,” PJ mutters, the tip of his cock just barely entering me as he presses a soft, sweet kiss to my lips.
“I don’t care. Just shut up and fuck me,” I order, my boldness knowing no bounds at this point.
I think I’m going to come out of my skin from all of this anticipation and need. I think I’m going to explode from wanting this man so much. I stop thinking altogether when he suddenly pulls his hips back and thrusts into me in one, hard stoke. My head thumps back against the wall and a loud moan of pleasure sails out of my mouth as he holds himself still, deep inside of me, and lets my body get used to him.
The pain disappears just as quickly as it came as I swivel my hips and stretch to accommodate him. How in the hell have I gone so long without this?
PJ drops his head to the crook of
my neck, his heated, panting breath skating over my throat as he pulls himself almost all the way out of me before slamming fully back inside, and I squeeze my eyes closed and gasp with how good it feels.
“Fucking hell, you feel amazing,” he groans against my neck as he starts pounding into me just like he said he would—hard, fast, and dirty.
All I can do is wrap my arms tighter around his shoulders, clench my thighs tighter around his hips and hold on for the ride as he starts fucking me against the wall, my back smacking into it with each rough jerk of his hips pistoning between my thighs.
I’ve never had sex like this before. It’s animalistic and feral, both of us moaning and groaning and making noises that can probably be heard over the loud thumping bass from the music playing out in the club, which I can feel pulsing through the wall against my back.
With each hard thrust into me, he holds himself deep and swivels his hips, grinding his pubic bone right against my clit until I’m panting and clawing at his back, churning my hips and rubbing myself against him as he continues to fuck me like a wild animal.
“Jesus, Cin . . . so . . . fucking . . . good,” he groans, punctuating each word with another slam of his hips between my legs.
PJ said he wasn’t going to be able to last long once he was inside of me, but he had absolutely nothing to apologize for. Sweet mother of God, I’ve never been this turned on. It’s unreal the way he makes me feel as he takes me against the wall. Each pant, growl, grunt, and muttered curse that he makes against the side of my neck pushes me closer and closer to an orgasm that is going to explode out of me faster than any other before it. Everything is hotter knowing he can’t hold back and doesn’t feel like he needs to be gentle with me. I’ve had plenty of gentle and boring, and now I want mind-blowing, unbridled passion, which is exactly what he’s giving me.
He smacks both of his hands against my ass, clutching it in his hands as he yanks the lower half of my body toward him, helping me move harder against him, the rhythm of him slamming between my thighs over and over never wavering.
“Yes, yes, harder” I chant, holding onto him tighter and thrusting my hips against him faster.
PJ’s head is still buried in the side of my neck and the feel of him licking and sucking the skin right below my ear while he continues to take me against the wall makes me lose control.
My orgasm is building quickly; I can feel it pulsing just within my grasp, and it makes me tilt my hips up, take him in deeper, and grind myself harder against that perfect pubic bone of his.
He pulls his mouth away from the side of my neck and his eyes lock onto mine, watching me come apart in his arms. I force myself to keep my eyes on him even though I want nothing more than to let them roll into the back of my head as he buries himself to the hilt, squeezing and kneading my ass as I push and thrust and swivel my hips until I’m tumbling right over the edge.
My orgasm rushes through me so strongly my toes curl inside my heels and I jerk against him as my body squeezes and pulses around his cock with wave after wave of pleasure.
“OH, MY GOD, P—!” I scream through my release, so overwhelmed with how good this feels that I can’t even manage to scream both initials of his name, my voice cutting off after one letter.
I don’t think he could fuck me any harder or faster than he already is, but he proves me wrong. His hips probably look like a complete blur as he pumps and thrusts into me at a high rate of speed until a few seconds later, he slams into me one last time, his lips fusing to mine as he kisses me through his release.
He moans into my mouth as his hips jerk, and he pushes back in roughly one last time before collapsing against me, pinning me harder to the wall. I feel him pulsing inside of me as he tilts his head to the side and kisses me soft and slow, breaking the kiss after a few minutes to pull his head back and look at me.
“Jesus Christ, I thought you were going to kill me,” he mutters with a smile, moving one of his hands away from my ass to bring it up between us and brush a strand of hair off my forehead.
“Me?” I ask in astonishment. “I’m probably not going to be able to walk for at least a week.”
He chuckles softly, and I feel the rumble of it with his chest still pressed against mine.
“I mean, yeah, that was seriously the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, and I swear to God I usually last longer than that, but that wasn’t what I was referring to. You yelled pee. I legit thought you had to pee, so that’s why I sped things up. I didn’t want you to pee on me. Then I realized you were coming, and I’m an idiot,” he tells me sheepishly.
I roll my eyes at him, wincing as he pulls himself out of me, grabs my hips as I unwind my legs from around him, and slowly helps lower my feet to the floor.
“We wouldn’t have this problem if you just tell me what PJ stands for,” I complain, scooping my thong up from the floor and shimmying back into it.
PJ smiles at me as he gets rid of the condom in the trash can under the makeup table, pulls his pants back up, and fastens them while I grab my discarded robe and put it back on, tying the belt securely around my waist.
“Sorry, PJ is just PJ,” he tells me with a shrug, walking back over to give me a quick kiss on the lips before grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the door.
I should probably feel weird that I’m going to head back out into the club wearing just a satin robe, but that’s what all the dancers do after their set. They go back out and mingle with customers, trying to entice them into buying a lap dance. My plan is to try to entice them to book a party with the Naughty Princess Club, using the stack of business cards Ariel has in her purse.
“Fine, PJ is just PJ. Then don’t be surprised if I really do pee on you next time. It will be your own fault, Golden Shower Man,” I tell him as he laughs, opening the door and pulling me out into the hallway.
I’m going to be walking through the club after I just had sex against the wall and everyone will know it with my flushed skin, sex hair, and eyes glazed with satisfaction, but I danced at a strip club tonight, and my vagina is officially cobweb free.
Right now, I feel nothing but happy.
Chapter 25: Don’t Make an Ass of Yourself
“Say it. Say I’m a hot, sexy bitch.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“Say it right now or I will punch you in the twat,” I order Ariel, throwing the words she always says to me right back at her.
She laughs at me and shakes her head as she continues clicking away at my laptop, which is on my kitchen counter. Belle sits quietly on the other side of her, penciling my party bookings into the day planner she picked up on her way over.
“Fine. You’re a hot, sexy bitch and I bow down to your awesomeness. Now, will you go away and let me work?” Ariel complains. I sigh and smile contentedly while I finish loading the dishwasher with breakfast dishes.
Thankfully, after my stellar performance at Charming’s the previous week, and having PJ walk me through the club and introduce me to everyone he knew there that night, we’ve been getting emails left and right to book parties. When Ariel found out PJ wasn’t really mad at me after I danced and what actually happened in the dressing room after he ordered her out, she demanded I take the next week to do nothing but continue being a hot, sexy bitch while she took care of business.
With Belle extremely busy at the library trying to do everything she can to keep it open, and with me spending pretty much every waking moment of the last week naked with PJ, Ariel has been handling things like a champ, answering hundreds of emails and fielding tons of phone calls. I’m a little freaked out that so far, I’m the only princess anyone has booked for a party, but it makes sense, since all of these people were customers at Charming’s the night I danced. My first job is next weekend in the next town over for a bachelor party, and as long as I don’t completely screw it up, I know it will only be a matter of time before word-of-mouth gets around.
It feels kind of strange that out of the three of us, I was the
one to take that first leap and put myself out there. I thought for sure it would have been Ariel, but she’s been acting weird ever since that night at Charming’s. I’ve asked her a few times when she’s going to take her turn, and she just keeps telling me, “soon.”
The three of us decided that no one would take a booking until we’d each had our turn on Charming’s stage, to get rid of whatever insecurities we have and to get the practice in there before we did our own party. I updated the website yesterday by putting “Available Now!” above my photo, and “Coming Soon!” under both Ariel and Belle’s. It’s not like Ariel has any insecurities, nor should she because, good lord, her body is insane. But it’s still a rule we made, and we’re sticking to it. I thought for sure she would have jumped at the chance to get up there right after I did it, but no such luck. Even so, I try one more time.
“So, you want me to talk to PJ and have him put you on the schedule?” I ask softly as she continues answering emails and doesn’t look up at me.
“Nope. I’m good.”
With a sigh, I pull out a stool and sit down next to her.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just busy. Your hot, sexy ass got us a lot of business, and I need to get through these emails,” she explains, but I know she’s lying.
“Ariel—”
“Uuggghh you’re annoying.” She cuts me off with a huff, slamming the laptop closed and staring at the top of it, still refusing to look at me. “I had to sell an entire closetful of my antiques this week to pay my mortgage. I know, it’s stupid and it’s just stuff, but it pisses me off. And don’t you dare feel sorry for me. We all have problems. Right now, I think it’s best I stay in the background so my bad mood doesn’t transfer to customers and scare them off. Focus your energy on getting little miss bookworm here to come out of her shell. Preventing the town’s library from shutting down and getting her the hell out of daddy’s basement is a lot more important than a bunch of old junk. Operation Free Belle From The Basement is now in full effect.”