ANightatTheCavern by Anna Alexander Page B

turned
her head would she see his eyes fierce and burning with a salacious fever?
Would the skin over his cheeks be tight and pink with his passion? Judging by
the words of encouragement pouring from his lips, she knew he was as enthralled
by the grip of lust as she was.
    “So good. Fuck, Miranda. You feel so fucking good.” The
strangled cadence of his words made her cunt lock down tight around his
shuttling cock. “If only you could see how beautiful you look. What all of
these men are seeing right now.”
    From the dark she felt their gazes on her bouncing breasts
and the ripple of her ass as Jorges took her faster. She heard their heated
pants and moans and felt the heady power that came with being put on display
for their pleasure. It was like earlier when Helene had danced on that sparkly
stage. The dancer’s confidence and innate sensuality had them all enthralled,
and now it was her turn to be captivating.
    She was beautiful. She was sexy. She was desirable.
    All the emotions gathered in her center and erupted in a
volley of fire. The wave was so great, so all-consuming, she feared drowning
until she locked eyes with Noah, whose teeth were bared with his impending
orgasm. Her jaw dropped open as she sang out her rapture loud and clear,
sharing her pleasure with all in the room.
    As her cry died down, Noah tipped his head back and let
loose with a stream of cum that splashed onto his belly while Jorges’ shout
echoed across the dance floor as he joined her in sweet oblivion.
    Under his twitching body she melted and a sublime sucking
sensation settled between her thighs as her channel milked his shaft. As the
fireworks faded in her vision, in the deepest recesses of her mind she could
hear wolf whistles and applause from the small audience.
    “Jorges,” she croaked from a dry throat. “Jorges.”
    “Miranda?” came the harsh reply.
    “Jorges.”
    That was all. One word. One name. One man who changed her
world forever.
    * * * * *
    “Jorges! For once I am being serious to the point of death.
I’d appreciate your full attention.”
    He gasped and lifted his head to see Amaryllis glaring at
him with her hands on her hips and a royal lift to her chin. He rarely blushed,
but his guilt at allowing his mind to wander heated his cheeks.
    Amaryllis was his friend, and was clearly in distress. Some
might see her white-blonde hair and ba-bam body and think her to be a flake,
but she was extremely intelligent, savvy, always collected and could see right
to the heart of people in an instant, almost as if she had superpowers. Never
would he call her scatterbrained, but as she stood in her living room with
pants and blouses escaping from half-opened suitcases and her straight hair
flying in every direction, she was the epitome of flustered.
    Amaryllis had been tight-lipped about her past and for good
reason. Apparently her father had been in a version of the mafia in her
homeland of Sweden, and she had fled to the States for safety. The night before
she had a run-in with one of her father’s former bodyguards, which had upset
her more than she let on. Instead of allowing Jorges to comfort her when she
had been visibly shaken, she had asked him to turn his attentions to the
lonely-looking woman at the bar. Miranda.
    Had Amaryllis known that when she sent him to brighten the
night of this unknown woman, she was changing his own views on relationships?
For one uncomfortably long moment as he had held that condom in his hand, he
had almost tossed the thing over his shoulder and taken Miranda bare.
Pregnancy, disease? He hadn’t cared. All that had mattered was being with this
woman who surprised him with every laugh and made him hunger for more.
    In the hot clasp of her body he felt like he belonged. Not
just physically, but spiritually as well. While the night had started out to be
about Miranda indulging in her most illicit fantasies, by the time they had
collapsed on a sofa in the VIP lounge, he had begun to spin his