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.

Two weeks later.

Preparing for work so late has never happened to me until today.

I didn't know when my alarm went off because of the dream I got lost in.

It's been over two weeks, yet the memories of what occurred at that sex club still torment me. Even in my dreams.

Especially Shark. The huge, hot man who's old enough to be my father.

After I ran away from the club, I came straight home with a wet, quivering pussy.

I couldn't stop the throb, despite reading my favorite romance book again. I had to drop the book and focus on continuing to research my promotional project, Phoenix, but that seemed to be a bad decision.

I couldn't concentrate.

At some point, I gave up and did the craziest thing ever.

I masturbated with my toothbrush.

My cheeks always redden whenever I remember that.

I've never gone to such lengths before. Gosh, I've never really masturbated.

But that's not the problem. It's the fact that I pictured Shark in my mind while doing it.

I guess I'm starting to obsess over the older man because he's the first person I've stalked on social media in my entire life.

Unfortunately, all his accounts on Snapchat, TikTok, and Instagram are private.

I grab my brush as I stand before the mirror in our shared bathroom, putting a paste on it.

Maisie's voice is echoing downstairs. She's probably on call or singing.

I quickly brush my teeth and bathe.

It's already 7:45 a.m.

Patricia is definitely going to roast me alive for coming late today.

I grab a black and white printed shirt and dark jeans, putting them on swiftly with a pair of black, flat shoes.

Ugh! My feet have practically outgrown the shoes, but I don't have much choice.

It's literally one of the finest clothes I've ever had. I don't have a big wardrobe, so I reshuffle most of my clothes and shoes every week.

I'm not even shy about that, nor do I envy others, like Maisie, who has many clothes, thanks to her mother.

I head downstairs after pulling my hair into a bun.

Yup, I was right.

Maisie's on a call.

She's seated on our small dining table beneath the staircase.

"Grandma! You don't have to worry about us. Laura and I are big girls, you know?"

Her voice echoes, following me into our small kitchen.

I whip myself an instant coffee. That's one of the things Grandma Shirley taught us back in Ohio.

She once owned a small coffee shop, and her coffee-making skills did attract customers to her back then.

Shirley's Café was the talk of the town back then.

My fingers burn as I wrap them over the mug while strutting out of the kitchen to join Maisie at the dining table.

"Of course, grandma, I've snagged myself some cocks, except Laura."

I glare wide-eyed at Maisie. Does she ever hide her lifestyle from grandma?

I roll my eyes at her and sip.

She managed to talk grandma into believing that Liam's not good for me. It's one of the reasons Grandma Shirley never likes Liam.

And when Liam and I went to Ohio just so I could introduce him to grandma, she saw him barking at me for trying to take a picture with his phone.

He said his storage Is going to get filled up with irrelevant things if I keep taking unnecessary pictures.

I didn't see it as anything then because Liam barely takes pictures of himself to begin with.

Except for the old pictures of Bianca and him back at college.

Grandma Shirley called me to her room, telling me to quit my relationship with him because it doesn't make sense that my boyfriend wouldn't want me to take pictures with his phone just because he doesn't want his phone storage to blow up.

Back then, I'd rolled my eyes at her, telling her to relax, that it's not a big deal.

But grandma Shirley never relented. Every time she calls, she never ceases to remind me to break up with him.

I'm sure she was overjoyed when she heard about the breakup.

"Hmm, that's a nice plan, grams." Maisie grins coyly at me.

I sit up, wondering what grandma Shirley said to her.

They speak a few more words and end the call.

Maisie's eyebrows twitch, and that alone tells me they're up to no good.

Those two really know how to plot against me.

I drop my mug, eyes on Maisie.

"What are you up to now?" I ask, keeping my tone stern.

"Nothing," She shrugs and grins.

"Nothing? Then why are your brows twitching?"

We both do that when we're lying to each other.

"Are they?" She rolls her eyes skyward as if to see the brows that are twitching.

Maisie is tall, about 5'9, and I really envy her height and stature.

She literally takes after her mother.

"Don't pretend like you're not plotting to damn me to hell with grandma, Maisie. Just leak the secret,"

"And have grandma Shirley roast me alive? No way, flower girl,"

She draws her seat back and stands, the legs scraping over the wooden floor.

"I'm not telling you shit until you tell me what happened between you and Shark." She tucks a strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear, crossing over to the couch.

"I told you nothing happened!" I lie.

I gravitate to the kitchen after drinking and rinse the mug, putting it on the rack.

"Seriously, flower girl! You got one chance to shag a billionaire, and you rejected it? Do you know how many girls would kill themselves for a night with him?"

"What do you know about him?" I ask.

Maisie shrugs. "Not much, but rumors have it he owns the biggest estate in L.A and runs a big empire."

That makes me curious. But I don't want Maisie to see how talks about him piques my interest.

Face deadpan, I shrug.

"Apparently, I'm not in his league."

"Yeah, but you had one chance to taste his cock,"

Oh, I did taste him. The experience was just super awesome. I don't just feel like sharing it. That's why I've kept it to myself.

To Maisie, I shrug again, feigning nonchalance.

"No talk about cocks this morning. I've got work to do." I reach her side on the couch and kiss her cheeks.

I grab my bag, which I left on the other couch, and sling it over my arm.

"Bye, flower girl." She calls. "Oh, before I forget, I'll be having dinner with my mom and her husband tonight."

"Roger that!"

Maisie's mom has been married six times now. Clint Greene, a therapist, is her seventh husband, and they've been together for three months.

And she makes sure to get alimony from all her ex-husbands. That's how the woman sustains her luxury lifestyle.

I guess Maisie's a bit like her in the department of moving from one man to another.

I start my car, the engine rattles a bit before picking up, and I hit the road.

I dash through the doors of our department, panting like a deer caught in the headlights.

I draw to a sharp halt when I see Patricia, Cersei, Mars, and every other person in the project department, and the director standing in formation.

All the pairs of eyes fall on me.

I purse my lips, unsure of what to say. Embarrassed.

It seems I'm the only one late today.

Great. Thanks to the mysterious man, Shark, who haunts my dreams, giving me the best imaginary orgasm I've ever had.

"Uh, good morning?" I finally mutter.

Our director, Jace Woods, stares at me and commands, "Join the line, Laura. We're expecting an important investor a few minutes from now, for our new project, Phoenix, and Ms. Patricia will take charge of the process."

"What?" I gasp in shock. All eyes pin on me.

TBC