Vegas Curves (A Masters of the Game BBW Erotic Romance) Read Online Free PDF

up with Solandro."
    His right hand lands on my knee and everything is suddenly far too intimate.
    I jerk my leg but his hand moves with me. "I did not 'hook up' with--"
    "Look at me when you talk." In a strong contrast to the way he is almost cradling me, anger laces his voice. "I said look at me, Marie."
    Disobedient, I close my eyes and lick my lips. All of this is a compliance technique, right down to his constant use of my first name. The familiarity and intimacy meant to sucker me in.
    Fear, anger and arousal collide inside me. I start to shake. His hand leaves my knee. Cupping the opposite side of my face, he forces me to turn my head. Eyes still closed, I cannot see him, but I can feel the tension running through him. Certain he is about to explode, I can't keep my lips from trembling right along with the rest of my body.
    "I'm not your father or Solandro, Marie. I don't hurt women."
    To prove it, his mouth covers mine, shocking me and robbing me of my ability to protest. He chews at my bottom lip, his finger hooking inside my mouth and forcing it down. His tongue slips in, his chest pressing more insistently until my body turns into him.
    He runs a hand up my skirt, words hammering my senses between the strokes of his tongue and the small bites he takes at the corner of my mouth. "Baby, I can't think straight when your lips quiver."
    He is under my skirt now. A finger traces the edge of my underwear before slipping beneath the thin elastic band. I am wet, responsive in a way that shames me. He buries his face against my throat and groans. He sucks at my flesh while his finger ghost walks against my clit.
    My body no longer cares if he is faking it. I arch against him. My hips lift as heavy contractions roll through my cunt and my breath breaks down into labored panting.
    With my bottom off the cushion, he reaches up, secures the panties' waistband and tugs them down my hips. Cupping my mound, he squeezes even as he continues to interrogate me. "Tell me about Solandro."
    Fuck -- seriously?
    Masters presses two fingertips against the spine of my clit and massages slow circles. "Tell me, baby."
    Baby, not Marie. He claims me as his with that one word and, for the moment, I am. I gasp and then my tongue starts working again. "We were in LA."
    I cannot believe that I am letting him do this or that I am only a few strokes away from coming. My pussy creams until my thighs are covered with the evidence of my attraction to him.
    "And?" He moves down the couch, peeling my panties the rest of the way off.
    My skirt is up, exposing the darker hair of my sex to him. He combs his fingers through it before pushing my thighs apart. His mouth opens and he takes a leisurely lick of his top lip. Ever so slowly, his hands smooth across my thighs, moving in the direction of my cunt.
    He has stopped asking me questions and I realize he is about to touch me down there and push this farce to the next stage.
    "Wait!" I scramble to lower my skirt and squeeze my legs together.
    "I've been waiting all night." He rubs his hand along my calf and presses a kiss against my hip. Across the georgette, his mouth tracks to center. Another groan leaves him as he secures the hem of my skirt and lifts his arms.
    "Don't! I promise I'll tell you everything." I want to believe his act. I want to believe it and spread my legs. I want to feel his mouth against me, his cock in me. I want to be ridden and to ride and to climax screaming his name, but I can't because it is an act and I know it. I know it because, even if a man like Masters could ever be attracted to me, it doesn't make me the kind of woman someone loses their ever-loving mind over. And he is behaving exactly like a man who has lost his mind.
    I push at his head and try to turn my body away from his waiting mouth, but he is too strong. "You don't need to pretend like this," I plead. "Just help me save Rose."
    Masters looks up, his pupils so dilated they almost eclipse the brown irises. The hard