King:Las Vegas Bad Boys(6)

By: Frankie Love


Tiny memories of the last time I had sex flash though my mind. Sophia’s father’s rough voice, bruises and tequila and shattered glass. A much younger me, a much stupider me.

Nothing about that night was soft. Not like this. Not like now. Landon may be a player ... but he isn’t treating me like a piece of meat. I think I knew that, deep down, the moment he started leading me around the dance floor.

He’s an ass, for sure—he sleeps with a different woman every night—but he’s also a decent man. He’s trustworthy, solid.

He knows how to waltz.

And, right now, I have to admit he is being a gentleman. That’s something I never thought I’d say about Landon, yet with his hands on my body and his hot breath in my ear, I know it’s the truth.

“Let yourself enjoy this, Claire,” he says, kneeling before me, his hands on the sides of my panties, tugging down the fabric, over my thighs, past my knees, to my feet.

I swallow, realizing this is really happening. The very thing I thought might never happen again is happening. I’ve been terrified of sleeping with someone again and getting pregnant on the first try, but it’s obvious Landon is the kind of bad boy who makes sure accidents don’t happen.

Landon’s face presses against my flesh, where my thighs meet my opening, and soft kisses flutter over my sensitive skin. I groan, my eyes closing, and instantly wish I’d been silent.

But Landon seems to respond to my voice. His mouth covers my mound, and his tender kisses become heated, and soon his hand slides between my thighs, inching my legs apart. His hand caresses my skin, grazing the lips of my entrance.

“Over here,” he says, standing and grabbing my ass, lifting me with what appears to be zero effort and laying me on the edge of the bed. He kneels on the floor, pulling my knees toward him, parting my legs as I try to catch up to what is happening.

The bedspread is soft and luxuriant, the light dim, a soft glow cast about the room. Landon’s face is covered in shadows that give him an even sexier, dark, and handsome look. His edges are hard, but his hands are so soft.

His head lowers between my legs, his mouth pressing into me. He licks my pussy up and down, fast, and then slips his tongue into me, slowly. He holds my thighs in his arms, as if he knows just how to maneuver my body into his face, so that he can get in me with the perfect mounting pressure.

My pussy drips, and I know I said it’s been a long time since anyone has touched me like this, there. But the truth is, I’ve never had a man kiss me this way.

This? This is a melt on the bed, better-than-my-vibrator, I’ll never be the same again sort of kiss. There is no way that I can believe it feels like this every time a girl has a man go down on her. They’d be grinning from the memory every moment of their lives.

Landon uses his hands to touch my folds as he sucks my clit, and then I feel myself soaking his face as my pussy comes in pleasure. My hands find his hair. I run my fingers through his locks, biting my lip as I foolishly attempt to suppress a moan.

There’s no point. My legs quiver as he refuses to stop the penetration with his perfect mouth. He flicks my clit, sliding his tongue across my opening again, faster and with more pressure. The movement fills my core with desire. My legs shake; my back arches. I gasp his name.

“Landon, this is ... so good.” I cover my face with my hands, sweat on my chest, goosebumps trailing my skin. He just gave me an orgasm I’ve only read about.

He stands, slips off his boxers, and crawls onto the bed, his eyes filled with hunger. When he straddles me, his stiff cock is more than impressive. Of course his rod is hard and long; he wouldn’t be a Vegas sex-King if he had nothing to work with.

I lick my lips, not even aware of the movement, but Landon is. His smile is cocky and smooth, and so gorgeous.

“Scoot back,” he tells me. “On the pillows. I want you to be comfortable.”

“I’m more than comfortable,” I tell him, doing as he asks. My head falls onto a pile of feather-filled pillows, and I sink into the decadence.

“I can see that,” he says hovering over me, his chest all molded, ripped muscles—complete strength.

“Will you come in me?” I ask him, my voice a whisper. I have never had a longing like this before, but his cock makes me wet all over again, as it presses against me. “I want this, Landon.”

“I do, too,” he says, leaning down, covering my mouth with a kiss, soft and sweet. My lips part, and our tongues mingle. I taste myself on him and it causes me to moan again.

My legs wrap around him, his hands push back my hair softly, and we roll over, so I’m on top of him. Our eyes meet; time seems to pause. I’m breathing hard and heavy, anticipating what comes next, him entering me with his thickness, his completely capable body melding against mine.

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