Masked Innocence by Alessandra Torre Read Free Book Online Page A

“It’s called the snack room, and is a lot of fun to visit during the party. It has lots of fun food you can eat off each other, or you can lie on the buffet table and have everyone nibble and lick things off you.”
    I smiled politely, trying to listen but not able to get my mind off the woman in ecstasy and the circle of hard, waiting cocks.
    The bedroom hall led back to the crowded foyer, and as we eased through, Beverly was stopped by several people. I finally leaned to her and whispered in her ear that I would see her later. She nodded gratefully to me and started chatting up a couple by the bar. I moved quickly through the crowd, avoiding eye contact and beelining for the great room. I stopped at the entrance, my eyes adjusting to the change in lighting, trying to find Brad in the dark, pulsating, room.
    I saw him, alone by the window, huge and imposing, and felt a flood of relief. He was watching a couple on the couch—a young blonde with an older man—Brad’s eyes unreadable but dark. I quickly walked to him, and he slid an arm around my waist, pulling me to him.
    “How was the tour?”
    “Good. Interesting.”
    “Good. Interesting,” he mocked, his hand trailing down my hip, teasing the skin at the bottom of my dress.
    “Stop that,” I muttered, trying not to lean into his touch. “Yes, it was interesting. Beverly is very sweet.” A breath caught in my throat as his hand traveled higher, pushing up my hem. His attention was focused on me, thoughts of everything else disappearing, and the intensity was unnerving. “Why don’t we find a private place and—”
    He grabbed me, shoving me hard against the wall, yanking my dress up till my lace panties were exposed, and spread my legs expertly with his knees. I sputtered a protest, but all that came out were whispered curses, my desire to not draw attention to us overriding my need to get him to keep his fucking hands to himself.
    “Why don’t we skip the private place?” he said, his voice strong in my ear.
    He slid two fingers in me, his eyes flickering at my soaked wetness, his fingers moving in and out, his thumb gently making delicious circles around my clit, the sheer fabric increasing the pleasure. I protested, quietly but fervently, but my words dropped off and my legs weakened. Sagging, I let my head drop back as I entered an unworldly plane of pleasure and arousal. He pulled on my dress, sliding the red fabric off my shoulders, and I felt the silky material fall away from my skin, leaving my breasts exposed, my nipples puckering in the open air. I looked around desperately, worried about who might see. My eyes met with one man, then two, who watched with aroused interest before my head dropped back and I felt an orgasm hovering.
    Brad did incredible things, his fingers and thumb making my clit stand hard and juices ooze from between my shaking legs. I gasped, gripping his shoulder and looking gape-mouthed into his smoldering eyes. “Do you like people watching you?” His voice was authoritative, demanding, and my rebellious side tensed at the tone. I protested weakly, my words turning into unintelligible moans, his words ringing true in my slutty core. “Do you?” His voice was now a rough whisper, and I moaned, opening my eyes for a moment, long enough to see another face, another pair of eyes on me. A man walked by slowly, close enough to hear, and I let out a strangled cry despite myself.
    His fingers disappeared for a moment; then I heard a ripping sound as my panties became victim to his strength. I sagged against the wall, waves of pleasure growing in time to the vibrating bass, the slow circle resuming around my clit, the fingers sliding back inside my soaking pussy.
    “God, you are wet,” he growled in my ear, and I could hear the wetness, the slick sound of his actions. “Almost as wet as I’m going to make that sweet little blonde on the couch.” Opening my eyes wide, I saw carnal activity all around and tried wildly to