“I have these Ben Wa balls that I’m going to put inside you. You’ll wear them all night long and every time you move, you’ll know that’s where my cock will be later.”

I opened my palm to show her the two pink balls I’d purchased specially for tonight. This was going to be fun. Slipping a finger between her legs, I tested her wetness before then spreading her arousal around to lubricate her. Layla groaned while biting her lip.

Arching her back, she tried for more contact, but I wasn’t giving in. This was a sweet torture for both of us, teasing on a whole new level. And it was sexy as fuck, knowing that she would have the balls inside her until I could get my cock in there. I gently guided the balls inside her, all the while watching her face. Her eyes softened and glazed over with lust. If she kept looking at me like that I certainly wasn’t going to last the evening.

Tempted as fuck to taste her juices on my fingers, but purposely denying myself, I held out my hand to her instead. “Clean my fingers. Taste yourself.”

Her eyes widened a fraction, but she opened her mouth all the while keeping her gaze locked with mine. She sucked my fingers with such enthusiasm that I felt the sensation all the way to my dick, making it jump.

I swear I nearly lost my mind for a few moments.

I wanted to rip off her towel with my fucking teeth and get my dick inside her along with the balls. I couldn’t wait to feel them move around inside her, massaging my length when my cock joined in.

It took all my strength to step back. My voice sounded strained when I spoke. “Get dressed, baby. We need to leave in half an hour.” I raised an eyebrow. “Oh and no underwear.”

I pulled her up from the bed and fucking hell the towel dropped to the floor. Was my little temptress trying to seduce me, make me succumb and give in to the carnal pleasure I was craving like a junkie?

She looked at me with big eyes as she took a couple of steps forward. “Oh my God, what if I have an orgasm in the middle of whatever you have planned?”

I threw back my head and laughed. “That would be awesome. But no, you aren’t allowed to let that happen. Your orgasm is mine. If you can hold out until we get back, I promise you the most mind-blowing orgasm you’ve ever had.”

“That’s a big promise, Grayson. You have no idea how talented your mouth and cock are and how amazing my orgasms have been.”

Fuck me, this woman was the undoing of me. Her brutal frankness was so fucking refreshing compared to the fakeness of some of the women I’d screwed as a student. No wonder it never felt right with anyone else before.

This.

This felt perfect.

No pretense, just raw honesty.

Since I was already dressed in a crisp white dress shirt and black slacks, I decided I needed a drink. “I’ll fix us each a drink while you get ready. I need something to cool me the fuck down.”

“Okay, but no peeping. I want to surprise you.” Her breathy laugh was cute as sin. If I thought I was playing a game, she was playing me just as hard. Hard being the operative word here.

I flipped through one TV channel after another waiting for her. Two drinks later, I heard her heels click on the hardwood floors. My heart raced as I watched the doorway.

I inhaled sharply when I saw her all dressed up. The red dress hugged her curves in all the right places. She had paired with high Louboutin heels, making her legs seem to go on forever. As stunning as her body was, it was her face that stole my breath. She glowed with a confidence that was growing by the day. I loved seeing her accept herself and become comfortable in her skin. Her shiny hair hung lose over her right shoulder, a rare treat indeed for a woman who preferred a ponytail. I couldn’t wait to get my fingers into those lustrous locks.

“Lala, you take my breath away,” I said, meaning every word. “You’re so fucking gorgeous . . . and sexy as fuck. I’m going to have a hard time sticking to the plan.”

Her radiant face was beautiful beyond anything I’d ever seen.

Everything else faded to black. In this moment, it was just me and her. The rest of the world—my father; his demands; the responsibilities and pressures—all else ceased to exist.

“Tonight I’m showing you off to the world.”

“Grayson, is that wise?” The quiver in her voice was undeniable.

“I really don’t care, Layla. I want you more than I care about the fucking consequences. Please tell me you feel the same?”

She placed her fingertips over my lips. “Let’s not think about all of that right now. You look so damn handsome in your black suit, and I’m all dressed up, so let’s just go out and have this one special night without worrying about tomorrow.”

I hated that she hadn’t answered my question, but she was right. Our problem couldn’t be solved overnight. I knocked back the last mouthful of scotch in my glass, grimacing as it burned its way down my throat. I skimmed my hand over her arse to check for panties, I was pleased to find no telltale lines. She listened.

With my hand possessively resting on the small of her back, I steered her towards the elevator.

“Let’s go make memories. Good ones.”

22: Layla

I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d never experienced anything like this before, but walking among the who’s who of London without underwear felt sinfully naughty. I had to squeeze my thighs together most of the time to alleviate the sensation of the Ben Wa balls as they moved inside me. It was such a turn on knowing that Grayson was watching my every move.

I drank the last sip of my expensive French champagne, never taking my eyes off Grayson. I couldn’t care less about the other people attending the premiere of the new show, even though many of them were extremely rich and others somewhat famous.

Grayson and I only had eyes for one another. How I was even going to concentrate on the three acts of the highly acclaimed Broadway show was beyond me.

The bell rang to signal that we had to take our seats, and I was grateful when Grayson took my hand and excused us from the couple he’d introduced me to earlier. To be honest, I’d forgotten their names seconds after he’d said them because I couldn’t focus on anything else but Grayson and the balls.

“Thank fuck we have our own private booth. I hate making small talk with people I hardly ever see outside of these type of events, regardless of who they are.” He scowled. “I just want to be alone with you tonight.”

His words made my heart beat just a little faster. We took our seats and the crowd quietened down as the lights dimmed. His arm slid around the back of my seat, his fingers stroking my upper arm as we waited for the curtains to open. The audience erupted in an applause as the music started and the actors took to the stage.

Grayson leaned closer to my ear. “Happy?” he whispered.

“I’m happy when you’re happy.”

“Lala.” Grayson kissed the soft sensitive skin beneath my ear and along the side of my jaw sending little shockwaves of pleasure down my spine. “I love making you happy.”

Good Lord, I could hardly focus on what was happening on stage, so when he sat back a few moments later crossing his leg over his knee and leaving our only form of contact to the minimum, I was both relieved and disappointed. The loss of his touch left me wanting him even more. Was that all part of his plan to drive me crazy for him?

If it was, it was working because as I watched the show, I couldn’t help but be completely aware of every inch of Grayson all the damn time. If he as much as moved a muscle, I knew about it. We were even breathing at the same rate.

Is he as tuned in to me as I am to him?

As if he knew what I was thinking, he took my hand in his and interlocking our fingers. Electricity crackled between us, something magical weaving us closer together as if by some ancient force of nature.