Invitation to Pleasure: Open Invitation, Book 2 by Jasmine Haynes Read Free Book Online Page B

her legs and wiggled her ass on
the bed. In the note, he’d told her to indulge herself on the bed in any way
she liked. She wanted to tease. He passed a hand over his erection, squeezing
through the cloth. It wasn’t enough to relieve the ache. But he didn’t pull out
his cock. He didn’t open the door.
           She slid her middle finger into her pussy,
over her clit. Her heels planted in the coverlet, she suddenly plunged deep,
arching her hips off the bed. She fucked herself with two fingers as he died
with desire.
           Then she settled once more, stroking her
clit with a slow hand. He couldn’t say how long she touched herself, how many
times she plunged, squirmed, circled. It went on forever until he thought he’d
go insane. Until he wanted to grab the only chair and throw it through the
glass so that he could get at her.
           Her gasps filled his small compartment. Her
moans echoed all around. His heart raced, the sound pounding in his ears, and
his breath timed itself to her rhythm. And when she finally let loose and
orgasmed all over her fingers, he almost came with her as she screamed out her
delight.
           Primitive instinct urged him to rip the
door off its hinges and have her. To bring her more pleasure than she’d known
just moments before. He almost gave in to the force.
           His intent to wait until they got home was
dying a fiery demise. He was sure he didn’t retain enough control over his impulses
to make it far past the front doors of The Sex Club.
           
    * * * * *
     
           If that didn’t make Brett come in his
pants, nothing would. She’d climaxed imagining him jerking off in his hand,
unable to stop himself, overcome by the sight of her. Wanting her desperately.
           Virginia lay on the bed recovering her
breath. Her spread legs faced the mirror. Her hot, wet pussy lay open and
exposed. A shiver traveled her arms and legs. Goose bumps rose. She hadn’t
married Brett because he wanted her desperately. She didn’t want him
desperately either.
           What they’d done tonight was about kinky
pleasures, not messy emotions. And that’s the way she wanted to keep it.
Fantasy. Sexy games. Nothing more.
           She rolled to her stomach and languidly
rose to her knees, this time exposing her ass. Since they were playing sex
games, she would enjoy every minute of it.
           Virginia followed her last set of
instructions, dressing as slowly as she’d undressed, petting and stroking for
the mirror. As he required, she stood for a time clothed only in garter,
stockings, and the tantalizing brassiere with its tight nipple holes. The light
flush of her climax still suffused her skin, and her clitoris throbbed
delicately as she contemplated whatever else Brett had planned for the night.
           Finally, dressed, she exited the room. The
lacy underthings caressed her as she took the stairs to the second level.
           She’d never seen so many couples engaged in
sex. It was beyond even her first foray to the club. On the floor in the middle
of the hallway, for God’s sake, a man mounted his partner, taking her with deep
strokes. Against the banister, the wall, on the stairs, more couples. She
negotiated the carpeting as if it were a minefield, careful not to step on
anyone’s dress.
           It was almost amusing, yet the scent of
perspiration, perfume, and sex laced the air with an aura of decadence and
abandon. The hot and heavy atmosphere stole her breath and increased the throb
between her legs.
           Her so-called friend, Lady Number
Sixty-three, was laid out on the lobby table illuminated by the overhead
chandelier. Her white dress creased as she wrapped her legs around the hips of
a midfifties gentleman. Though gentle was hardly the word to describe the rough
pounding of his body into hers. The lady suddenly threw back her head, her
listing hairdo hanging off the other side of the table, and wailed