Laura.

"Jesus, Maisie, how am I supposed to cope here?"

I glance away from Maisie, who's sitting behind the steering wheel of my sedan, to the parking lot filled with various types of expensive cars.

She truly wasn't kidding when she said Sin House is the most elite sex Club in the city. I've not gotten inside yet, but I already feel intimidated.

Maisie chuckles, the sound drawing my attention.

"Damn, the energy is already pulsing from out here. What do you smell, flower girl,"

"Huh?" I flick my eyes back at her, brow arching.

"I smell hot sex, Laura. The musk of the hottest daddies in this city." She unbuckles her seat belt, shoving out.

Clearly, Maisie isn't feeling the intimidation I feel, even wearing that skimpy, backless silver gown with a deep V-neckline that leaves her whole cleavage open.

I slowly get out of the car too, rubbing my fingers together as I look at the dome-shaped building with shiny glass walls. It's tucked away in a private estate.

Already, there are bouncers around the parking lot and the revolving glass doors, which are the entrance, guarding the place.

It's unlike normal clubs where you see people lined up in a queue, waiting to get permission to go inside.

Sin House is strictly based on invitation, which I'm clutching tightly. Maisie, on the other hand, is here to strip and has her card with her.

As we reach the bouncers, they nod knowingly at Maisie, showing they know her.

I show them my invitation and stride in after Maisie.

We stride down the hallway with red velvet walls and black marble floors, my eyes pinned on the double stainless steel doors at the end of the hallway where the bass of the music playing inside streams from.

One of the doors in the hallway opens, and a girl, probably 5'8, dressed in a red leather harness with rings that left her breasts open and thigh-high heels, comes out. Her purple hair was tied into a ponytail.

The tiny frown on her face lifts when she sees Maisie.

"Maisie! Thank goodness you're here," She lets out.

"What's good, Piper?" Maisie asks as we stop before Piper,"

"We're running short of one stripper tonight. Christine called in sick, and she's supposed to attend to a client named Shark, who booked an exclusive lap dance."

I'm assuming she's the leader of their freelance stripping group.

"Oh, shit." Maisie curses. "What do we do?"

"We need a replacement," Piper confirms. Her eyes skate over to me and glint.

My head draws back when I understand what she intends. Maisie's look equally confirms it.

"You want me to be a replacement? No way, I'm not doing this," I blurt, already backing away.

"Come on, Laura. There's no harm in doing it. Christine isn't here to take the job and we're going to lose all our money if we're not complete tonight."

I look at Maisie like she's grown two heads. Her doe-eyed look clenches my heart.

"I don't know what to do out there," I cry out.

"But you can dance, right?"

Yeah, right. I was once good at ballet.

I try to argue more, but she huffs, "See? You've got the skill, flower girl, let's go,"

Piper opens the door to the dressing room that instant, and they pull me inside.

I'm shocked to see various colors of lingerie and harnesses in the room.

Maisie sets me before the mirror, removing the green backless mid-thigh gown she gave me earlier.

I feel so exposed. I cover my breasts. The other strippers in the dressing room don't even look fazed about their nakedness.

"Just relax and let me transform you," Maisie leans into my ear and whispers. We look at each other through the mirror silently.

She goes to the rack and selects a black lingerie, throwing it at me.

I begrudgingly shove my legs into what I realize are a net panties and bra.

I thought the backless dress earlier was revealing, but I was wrong.

This here is revealing. It gives this sense of indecency, but shockingly, I'm not so repulsed by it. Not even when my nipples peek through the net.

Piper helps Maisie put me on black strappy harnesses with rings.

I feel like I'm about to get choked.

My light brown hair is pulled into a tight ponytail just like the others, and then they place a cat-shaped mask over my face.

They coat my lips in black lipstick and shove my legs into some shiny leather thigh-high stilettos.

When I look in the mirror again, I appear different. Indecent but hot.

I've never felt like this before.

But after that comes the lessons.

How to own the moment like it's mine. How to capture the attention of the man, how to keep a steady eye contact, and how to grind my assets on him.

I steel my nerves and listen.

___

We all leave after the lessons, heading into the room where the music is coming from.

In the hallway, the sound had been dull, but inside here, it's loud, thrumming through my veins.

My gray eyes flit through the space lit by kaleidoscopic lights, at the naked, tangled bodies, enjoying the bliss of rocking their sex together.

When I look over at the dance floor, I see some men, probably in their thirties and above, bent to their waists as women fuck them with strap-on dildos.

On one of the sofas, my eyes glimpse five men sharing one woman, her moans rising over the music.

I've never seen a live porn, until now.

The tension builds, and my throat clogs.

The moans barreling into my ears as both genders get pounded by their partners makes my core throb.

The other strippers, including Maisie, walk to the stage, taking on the poles and twirling around them like they were made for this.

I strut past the naked bodies and head up the spiral staircase that leads to the VIP section, as was told.

It has a private booth surrounded by one-way mirror glass that overlooks the scene below.

I expected to see an old man with a wrinkled face, but surprisingly, he's young. Well, not so young. Maybe he's in his mid-forties.

He's dressed in a spotless white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his biceps.

He doesn't have any tattoos I can see, but he certainly has muscles and bulging veins swirling up his wrists to his biceps.

His shoulders are broad, and through his five undone buttons, I see a snick of his muscled chest.

I look down and marvel at how his black slacks wrap around his toned thighs.

His jaw is sharp. Chiseled to perfection with a fine line of salt and pepper beard, the same color as his quiffed hair.

A Cuban cigar is wrapped around his lips, oozing a bright orange cherry glow with each drag he takes.

He hasn't spoken, but I can already feel his intimidating aura. His blue eyes focus on me, practically undressing me.

A glint of approval shines in his eyes, and the devious way his lips quirk up makes my core melt.

I'm about to have a heart attack; that's the only thing that can explain this spike in my heart rate.

I feel so conscious of every dart of his eyes around me, and the burn it leaves in its wake makes my body bead with sweat.

He raises a hand, flicking two fingers at me. A signal to come forward.

My legs move on muscle memory. I pose in between his powerful thighs, trying to put into practice what I was told.

My gray eyes fix on his sharp blue ones. He looks so hot and powerful. A dark aura steams from him, luring me in.

I've never been wet with just a look. Not even when I was with Liam.

Liam! His name spurs a sour taste on my tongue.

I push everything about my ex-boyfriend away from my mind and focus on this moment.

I push my sense of morality away, looking hungrily at the man.

He leans up from the burgundy sofa, raising his free hand to my left breast.

Just one firm touch. That's all it takes for me to combust.

A moan builds at the back of my throat, my head thrown back.

He slides that hand over my nipple, touching it through the net bra.

His eyes glow.

And then he lands a short spank to my breast, growling.

"Show me what you've got, Little flame, ride me,"

I don't know if it's his voice or the nickname he just called me, but a strange pulse goes off in my pussy.

I look down at him, my eyes hooded with need.

Confidence floods my veins, and with it, I straddle him.

Tension seeps and clouds the air in the booth, pulsing with the sensual music streaming in the club.

With deliberate, slow grace, I start to sway my asset over him.

Heat flares between us as we stare at each other.

The man, Shark, stares at me like he's one inch away from devouring me. The cigar between his lips puffs out tiny smoke that wafts over my face. The nicotine clouds my lungs.

I twirl my hips over his toned thighs. Energy pulsates from his body. It seeps into mine like the possessive fists of a lover. It clenches my core.

The music pounds, all brass and bass, and I rock myself on him, pretending to own the moment, but in truth, Shark owns it.

He hasn't touched me yet, but I'm already combusting at the seams, dripping like a waterfall.

My nose clogs with trapped breath.

I bring my fingers up and graze the air near his sharp jaw. When I try to pull my hand away, Shark grabs it.

A gasp wrenches from my mouth, and I flick my eyes at him, lashes fluttering.

Gently, he pulls the cigar from his lips.

He puffs out a string of thick, gray smoke, crashing over my face and thickening the tension between us.

My chest heaves.

"Touch it, little flame,"

That gruff voice again. It has to be an energy booster.

A smile curls my lip. I don't speak, but I do as he says, curling my fingers over his beard.

It's spiky but silky. I've never loved a beard before. I liked how Liam's was shaved, but with this man here, old enough to be my father, the beard has become a tick I can't unlearn.

Every sweep of my fingers over the spiky, silky salt and pepper hairs rewrites something in me. Like this is going to be my new obsession.

Shark growls low in his throat.

He pulls the ashtray on the coffee table close and stubs out the cigar.

Attention back on me, he grins.

"Those little fingers are stirring me up, little flame," His voice dips.

My fingers roam away from his chin, down to the base of his neck.

I don't stop rolling my hips. The pace falls in rhythm with the music in the club.

My pussy wets more, weeping and soaking the net panties.

I peer at Shark, a lazy smile covering my lips.

Rocking against him, I roll my fingers down his powerful chest.

The taut muscles yield under my touch. I feel them pulse alongside his heart rate.

He growls again. A puff of steamed breath comes out of his nose and parted lips, thanks to the cigar.

The scent blends with his cologne. So masculine. So powerful.

My heart beats.

"I like how you touch me, little flame," He says, his hand going into my hair.

I don't respond with words, only my hands.

I slide them down his torso, loving how he bucks, like I've set him on fire.

"So innocently. Like you don't mean to tempt me,"

Oh, but I do, I think to myself.

I want to tempt him like he's tempting me without even trying.

"It takes a lot of effort for women to stir me, little flame," He says, tugging at my hair hard to assert his dominance, but he's cautious enough not to make it hurt.

He angles my head, tilts close, and licks his tongue over the column of my neck.

Chills skitter down my body. The hot sweep of his tongue over my skin makes my blood boil with hunger.

I moan, soft at first, but it slowly becomes unguarded. Wild.

God, his tongue is unraveling me.

My hips twitch over him, losing their rhythm with the music.

My fingers cling to his shirt. I arch my back, giving him access to lick his way down my chest.

"I love how you moan, little flame," He purrs, placing a kiss over the right side of my chest. His lips miss the mound of my breast by an inch. "So wild. It says what your mouth refuses to voice out,"

No, I can't talk. I don't know why, but I want to deny him the privilege to hear my voice. I guess the need to protect my identity is firm.

All I can do is moan.

The heat flares inside me. I peer over at him, seeing how he's greedily watching my nipples.

The sweep of his eyes alone sparks something in me. Hunger. Want.

I suddenly burn with the desire to have those perfect lips wrapped around my nipples.

Shark is staring at them, like he's cataloging them in his mind. As if he doesn't want to forget how they look.

I'm surprised the whole tension hasn't paused my rocking hip because my heart has stopped beating for a moment there.

I swallow past the clog in my mouth, letting my fingers drift into his quiffed salt and pepper hair.

He's so hot I want to call him zaddy. Only I can't talk. I don't want to give him that luxury.

"I love how your tits look..."

I expected him to feast on them, but Shark only kissed through the valley of my breasts, heading down to my torso.

He arches my back; it's a miracle I don't break in two.

My body flares with awareness at what he's doing.

He's taking in the scent of my cleft.

Sweet Jesus.

Who does that?

No one except Shark.

Who the hell is this man?

By some twisted pleasure, I rock my waist up, silently giving him permission to smell more of me.

He groans, the vibrations ghosting over my body.

He throws his head back, slowly inhaling like he sniffed coke.

His shoulders vibrate. The energy crackles and flares. He brings his eyes down at me, his blue depth shining like he's possessed.

"You smell so good, Little flame. So addicting. I bet you'll taste yummy too."

I shiver as he runs his finger down my torso. His lips meet the skin, kissing me along the harnesses.

It makes me cry out. I shove my body over his, my hips continuing to rock against him again. I remember my moves back when I was into ballet dance, and I incorporate them here.

My upper body bends backward, I jut my hips to his face.

"Ohh,"

Another moan flies out when his breath ghosts over my cleft.

Yes, I want to scream out loud, but I keep it trapped.

The thought of Shark trying to kiss me there makes me go wild.

I rock against his face recklessly, giving him the chance to take me.

I've never been this wet before. To the extent that I'm now dripping onto his thighs.

"You've made a mess on my slacks, little flame," He says, pulling up enough so I can look at him. A coy smile plays on his lips.

A purr of protest escapes me. I want to bend over again just to have him place a kiss on my sex.

Liam has never done it to me before. I always feel embarrassed by the idea of him kissing there. Probably because he said he'd never go down on a woman, and he doesn't like sniffing a woman's musk.

Now that I think about it, was it him hating sniffing and going down on women, or did he hate to go down on me?

But seeing the satisfaction on Shark's face just from sniffing me, it makes me want to know what it feels like to have a man kiss me there. It boosts my self-esteem.

However, Shark denies me that experiment.

From his chuckle, I know he's aware of what I want.

He wants to make me beg.

He makes me rise back on my feet. I feel my nectar drip down my thighs.

I don't protest much because he paid for this service. His pleasure against mine first.

"See how you've soiled my slacks, little flame? Your pretty little pussy is such a humidifier," He gestures to his slacks. I see the wet map of my essence left on his black slacks. "Doesn't look so good, does it, little flame?"

I shake my head.

"Word," he commands, staring up at me.

He's seated, but he still reaches my shoulder from this position.

"No, sir," I dip my voice a bit, not wanting him to know my real voice.

He grins, brow twitching. He leans in, raises his hand to my lips. His fingers sensually, slowly brush over my lips. The matte black lipstick staining his fingers.

"It's daddy to you, little flame,"

I puff hard breaths, his hands sweeping over my chest. "Daddy,"

I taste the word on my lips and swallow. It tastes rich and sounds dominant like him.

"Good. Now..." Shark reclines over the sofa, hands on the headrest. His hips shift forward, legs spread, trapping me in them.

I can feel the jut of his boner through his slacks.

Eyes on me, he commanded, "Be a good girl and clean the mess you made, little flame."

I know what he wants. And I've never done it before.

I should refuse, draw the line here, but desire blooms in my tongue, and I slowly go down to my knees between his legs.

Looking at him through my lashes, I slip out my tongue and start tracing it over his slacks up to the wet map I indented on his slacks.

Shark growls, head thrown back.

"That's it, little flame," Shark lets out.

His hips twitch. His hooded, blue eyes track every fluid movement of my tongue over his slack.

My mouth closes over the wet map, just above his cock. I feel it throb through his fly.

I suck the fabric into my mouth, so slowly, my teeth graze over his dick.

The buck he gives tells me he feels it straight down to his bloodstream.

His chest expands from how deeply he breathes. He bites his lower lip into his mouth. He must have drawn blood from how hard he bites his lip, like he has beef with it.

But I know better. He's trying to keep his control.

Only, I want him to lose it. Tonight is the only time I'm allowing myself to indulge in immorality.

After tonight, I will go back to living my boring life.

Boring?

My life has never felt boring before. I literally loved it, working, reading, and some vanilla sex with my ex-boyfriend.

But being under the heavy, lustful gaze of this huge man, it feels like I've been missing out on a lot in life.

Shark releases his lip.

His powerful hand comes up to my face. It slides seductively over my cheek, down to my chin, and then my lip.

He rubs his thumb over my sloppy lips, parting them.

I close my eyes at the strong feeling. My pussy sings, soaking. Every touch he renders echoes in my core, boiling the need there to a volcanic high.

"You're such a good girl, little flame. Cleaning up the mess you made on daddy," He says, still rubbing his thumb over my lip. He forces his thumb into my mouth, coaxing me to suck.

I look at him through my lashes, my eyes glassy.

Drool coats the corner of my mouth while I suck his thumb.

Through my bleary eyes, I notice the faint smirk playing at his lips.

He pulls his thumb away and inspects it, the line of drool that shines under the red light.

"You sure know how to use that slutty tongue, little flame," His thick baritone rises over the bass of the music playing. He leans in, his beard brushing over my cheek. I shiver when he whispers in my ear, "Put it around my cock, little flame, let's see how much filth you can wipe."

His big palm closes over mine. The heat of his touch makes me shiver in ways that have nothing to do with the air conditioning in the booth.

He glides my hand over his toned thighs until I reach his fly.

"Open it, baby girl. Don't be shy,"

Like a god, Shark reclines back on the headrest, allowing me to take over.

I swallow hard. Tentatively, I begin to unzip his fly. The metallic sound of the zipper, a telltale sign that I'm about to venture into a world of pleasure I've never known.

I gasp when I pull him out of his pants. The flutter of butterflies in my belly tells me I'm going to lose all rational sense at this moment.

In my palm lies the most glorious cock I've ever seen. Shark's cock definitely gives Liam's a run for his money.

The crown is red, bulbous, and beading with pre-cum. The crystal liquid makes my mouth water.

My body warms, feeling his girth pulse in my palm that's barely covering it.

The two red orbs beneath his length are tight. Swollen. The light brown hair of his groin is relaxed and warm.

"Surprised to see it's so huge?"

His question drags me away from my thoughts. I steel myself and give him a daring smile.

I want to retort with words, but I would rather do it with my hands.

Holding his eyes, I spit over the length, trying to put into practice all I've read in books...and seen in X-rated movies.

"Fuck!" Shark groans. Breathes. Hard.

The drool splatters over his tip, almost sliding down my knuckle.

Breath hitching from the vibrations going off in my core, I catch the liquid and spread it around his girth, like jam to bread. I let it sink into his skin, nice and slow.

And then I start to tug, giving him a hand job.

I look at him, cataloging every twitch, every grimace of pleasure, every snap of his control.

He squirms. I rub harder.

His tip oozes his filth, and I long to taste it. Feel it bloom in my tongue.

"Fuck, crap!" He roars amid the music when he feels my mouth close over him.

The sweet, salty taste of his precum spread over my mouth. It goads me, making my pussy clench in the air.

Shark shudders, and the movement sends his thick cock deeper into my mouth.

That's all it takes for him to own my mouth.

"Oh, good, little flame. So wet and warm," He chants, one hand coming over to rub my jaw, as if trying to soothe whatever ache being inside my mouth spurs. "My cock in your mouth is the best tango ever, little flame." He says.

I blink past the haze of

I begin to bob my head, stroking him with my tongue. It wraps and spans along his girth.

Shark growls, deep and sultry.

He sneaks his hand on my jaw to the nape of my neck, and he holds the strands of hair.

That gives him the purchase he needs to control the pace.

To control me.

To fuck my mouth like it's his territory.

I gag. Drooling all over the corner of my mouth.

I was foolish to think I could own this moment with someone like him. The need rises in me once or twice, but he effortlessly crushes it.

I become pliant as he thrusts in and pulls out.

My mouth floods with his essence and my saliva.

I down it all, a bit greedily than I thought capable.

Wet, lewd sounds echo with each in and out thrust of his large cock in my mouth.

My pussy gets off over the air pressure going through it.

My eyes bulge, nearly pulling from the socket when Shark thrust his tip over the soft flesh at the back of my throat.

The sudden contact makes him groan as I gag.

"Fuck. Tell me, little flame, are you ready to wipe off the filth with your tongue?" He asks, striking over the edge of my throat.

I moan around his cock. I place my hands on his thighs for support. My head moves in tow with the wordless command of his cock.

"The way you eagerly move that head to meet my thrusts, fucking shows you're ready,"

He swats my breast. Fondles and then, without forewarning, he explodes around me.

My mouth floods with his seed. I moan, eyes clog with tears.

He doesn't pull away until every last drop of his seed fills my mouth.

As the cock slides out of my mouth, Shark pulls me up and crashes his mouth on mine. No warning. No coaxing. Just owning.

The kiss is hot, wild.

I've never had such an intense kiss. I peer into his drowning blue eyes, wondering why everything with him is different.

As we stare at each other, lost, Shark brings his hand up to remove my cat-mask, but that's where I draw the line.

He can't see me.

Sharply, I swat his hand away. I jump faster to my feet than I realize and bolt away from the booth.

I can't let him see my face.

TBC.