ACE:Las Vegas Bad Boys(59)
I don’t want to drown. Not with Emmy Rose. Not tonight.
“So what game do you wanna play?” I ask her, pulling her down, close to my mouth. Ready to consume her.
“Easy,” she says, surprising me yet again. “Pillow fight.”
EMMY
I grab the pillow from behind Ace’s head, and he jumps up in surprise.
“Hey, baby,” he says smoothly. “Play nice.”
“I don’t fall for cheese-balls.” I say, swatting him with the pillow in my hand.
Ace grabs another one, smacking my ass with it. As I stand up on his bed, he grabs my waist, not letting me get away that easy.
I’m grinning like a love-struck fool and, shit, it feels fucking amazing.
“You do like my balls, though,” Ace says, holding me tightly to him, causing me to fall to the bed, laughing. “I mean, if I remember correctly, from when they were in your mouth.”
“I won’t deny that,” I admit. “You have the nicest cock I’ve ever seen. And your balls ain’t half bad.”
“You’re not so rough yourself.”
I try to grab the pillow from Ace’s hands, but instead he pins me down on the bed. I smile, breathlessly.
“You like it rough, Ace?” I ask, trying to squirm away, liking the fact that he won’t let me.
I’m completely naked, and so is he. The lighting is dim, music is playing—everything about this night is perfect.
Now I just need him to fuck me silly.
As if he’s reading my mind, Ace lowers his mouth to mine, his body hovering over me. He kisses me softly, his warm lips covering mine. I open my mouth with a low moan, wanting more of Ace.
All of Ace.
His hand holds my face, and I love it when he touches me this way, so tenderly. As if I am something precious—a feeling I’ve never before experienced with a man.
His cock is hard; I feel it between my legs. One of his hands runs down to the space between my thighs and his fingers begin caressing my pussy. Our kisses become more heated, and I wrap my arms around his neck, enveloped in his strength.
He leans back, pressing my legs open as he lowers his face to my wetness. His mouth expertly widens my slit, and his tongue presses into my pussy, as he presses his mouth against it nice and tight, sucking me hard.
I’m dizzy with the effect, grabbing his hair as he kisses my pussy. Twirling his tongue around my opening, he takes one of my hands, wanting me to touch myself while he touches me too.
I’ll do anything Ace asks.
I rub in circles at my opening, feeling the rising heat, and Ace smiles at me, liking me this way, splayed out, getting so wet.
“Come in me,” I beg him.
Ace responds by guiding my hand to his massive cock, and I ease him into me, slowly, because he is just so big.
“You like that, Emmy Rose?” he asks.
“I love it. I love it when you’re in me,” I say. Then I lose my words, lose my mind. Because, oh, it feels so fucking good.
Ace fills me, and I like the way we’re making love, him on top of me, his hand running though my hair, running over my tits. It feels so tender, so real.
This is real.
Absolutely real.
My legs are wrapped around Ace’s shoulders as he moves in me faster, faster. Fast enough that his cock hits me in all the right places. The walls of my pussy are tightening, and my body breaks out in a light sweat. Ace finds my hands and laces his fingers with mine, gripping me tightly.
It feels like a faucet has been turned on in my body, and what was dripping before now begins to pour. I’m coming so hard my thighs shake as his cock thrusts deeper inside me, filling me with a warmth I craved.
That I didn’t even know I hungered for.
Ace comes in me, holding onto me as his throbbing cock releases. He steadies himself above me as he thrusts deep inside me one last time.
Then a grin spreads over his face. We’re both sweaty and raw, and just so well fucked.
He falls beside me on the bed, takes my hand, kisses it, holding tight.
I turn my face to his, our foreheads touching, our hearts beating in unison. “Don’t let me go,” I say.
“Never,” Ace says. And I believe him.
21
ACE
For the next few days we order room service, have in-room massages, and fuck until her knees have rug burn and I’ve run out of condoms.
Which is saying something.
The afternoon of day three, we both know that our friends are gonna knock down my door if we don’t respond to them with more than some few-word texts.
And Denise was patient the first two days with rescheduling my appointments and meetings … but by day three she’s messaging me every few minutes with details about business meetings that can’t wait.
Including the appointment with our realtor that we have scheduled for today.