is toying nervously with the tie at the waist, twisting it in her hands over and over.
“You make yourself at home?” I advance on her as I speak.
“Yes. I took a bath.” I notice that her skin is still dewy and wet from the soak, her face freshly washed. “I hope that’s okay,” she adds anxiously, eyeing me with doubt. Her hair is held back in an orderly ponytail and she flips it over her shoulder as she’s talking.
“Of course,” I tell her brusquely. “You’re in the penthouse. Call down for whatever you want or need at any time. They’ll take care of you.”
I notice the floral dress, the one that caught my eye hours ago when I first spied her on the casino floor, crumpled into a heap in the corner.
“I guess you don’t have any luggage.” I say.
“Just that.” She gestures to the rumpled article of clothing.
“We’ll take care of it tomorrow. You’ll need more than that for a week.”
“What are—” She pauses and inhales sharply. “What are you going to do with me all week?”
“I think you know.”
She shakes her head and opens her mouth again to say more, but I’m tired of talking. And my cock, having registered that Lilly is no doubt naked underneath that fluffy white robe, is straining for release. Without a word, I step forward and close the distance between us. She gasps slightly as I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her against my body as I lean down to kiss her—hard. I press her soft figure against me, letting her feel the hardness of my dick as my tongue explores her mouth. She tastes minty like she just brushed her teeth. Was she getting ready for me?
She lets out a low moan and I pull back, looking at those huge hazel eyes of hers. Her mouth has fallen open to form that same “O” of surprise when she first identified the eye-in-the-sky cameras on the casino floor.
“Okay?” I ask.
“Do that again,” she whispers, her eyes already closing in anticipation of another kiss. “Please,” she adds and her eyelids flutter open for a split second as she shoots me a shy look. A very polite girl. She doesn’t need to ask me twice.
I kiss her again, more roughly. I keep one hand around her waist and find her ponytail with the other one, pulling on it ever so slightly so that she’s forced to tilt her head back further, angling her face towards mine.
I undo the tie at her waist and reach my hand down under the robe, grazing her pale thighs, still warm and damp from the bathtub. A slight tuft of pubic hair between her legs—trimmed but not shaved completely—surprises me momentarily but she gives a small groan as my hand settles between her thighs, and I know I can’t stop. I won’t stop. It’s been a stressful day. And I need a release.
She shrugs her shoulders and the white robe falls to the floor at her feet, leaving her totally naked in front of me. I give a last tug on her ponytail, forcing her to step back ever so slightly. She gives a disappointed murmur, reluctantly leaving behind the touch of my hand.
Before I devour her, I want to take her in. Even naked, she’s different from what a man usually sees in Vegas. Her skin is creamy white. There are no tan lines from tiny bikinis and she clearly doesn’t fake bake.
“Turn around,” I tell her, curious. “I want to see you from behind.” She does as I say, moving slowly until her back is to me. I raise an eyebrow in surprise. She doesn’t have a single tattoo or piercing anywhere on her body. “Stay like that.”
I continue to watch her, trembling before me, as I slowly take off my suit jacket and shirt. I place my cufflinks—glittering like a pair of eyes—on the marble-topped bedside table. Then I undo my belt. I see her flinch ever so slightly at the sound of the belt buckle coming undone. I throw the leather belt onto the massive king-size bed, realizing with a smile that I might want it later. Then I drop my slacks to the floor and, finally, my boxer-briefs.
She turns at the sound.
“Stay as you are,” I command her. I want to take her in without getting distracted by those huge, questioning eyes of hers. I observe the curve of her waist, the gentle slope of her ass—small and perky.