As they got closer to the front of the line, they heard the roar of a sports car and then a cherry-red Lamborghini pulled up to the front of the sidewalk. Everyone watched in adoration, and the valet helped to open the door for the driver. When the man got out, Vin felt exactly like every other woman did there. He was hot.
The man had dark-black crew-cut hair, was tall, like over six feet two, wore a black V-neck T-shirt with a white sports jacket and dark jeans. He was designer all the way and definitely had money. As he passed the front of the line, the women were catcalling him, but she just stared at him as if he were another Conan. A man with money and power who could get whatever women he wanted and do whatever he pleased. He caught her eye, and she shot him with daggers before turning toward the bouncer and getting inside with her friends.
They continued their conversation as they made their way to the bar. It was an upscale place, one she didn’t care for too much because of the type of crowd that wound up there. Usually rich, snobby types looking to hook up with unknowns. She didn’t feel she belonged here, but she and her friends had been coming to Carlyle’s forever. No matter what the occasion or celebration, they wound up here. The summer months in college would be spent working at one of the local storefronts on the boardwalk and laying out on the beach all weekend sleeping off their hangovers. That was all good until she met Conan while home in New York.
Twenty-one and easily mesmerized by the wealthy, older, attractive man and her destiny was nearly set. She shook the thoughts from her head and wondered when her mind would stop thinking about the mistakes she’d made and the man who believed he owned her. When would the fear of him finding her, punishing her, and possibly killing her no longer be a worry and concern? Probably when he was behind bars but, ultimately, only if he were dead.
It was always busy at Carlyle’s. There were lots of new faces because a lot of business people hung out here, and her and her friends always had fun listening to the live bands. Tonight would be no different.
“Okay, bring on the shots to loosen me up,” Cherie stated and rubbed her hands together by the bar. Of course that got the bartender very happy because he knew their group would be spending a lot of money, and he immediately began flirting with Cherie.
Venetia saw a few guys look at her best friend, and she knew that she was in for babysitting tonight. She didn’t mind though. Venetia didn’t trust anyone, and she was always on guard. She kind of had a bitchy attitude, but she really didn’t care. Her work was her everything, her livelihood and a means of not living on the streets. Not that she would. She had Cena, who she was going to see next week at the barbecue she was having.
“You don’t need to get wasted to get Mr. Hotshot you broke up with out of your system,” Rose told Cherie.
“I’m over him,” Cherie stated but then looked around at the other people enjoying the night.
Venetia could tell that her friend was still nursing a broken heart. She’d adored Randy and thought they might get married, but then he strayed.
As the night went on, Venetia leaned back against the bar and spoke to the bartender, Gus, until she felt the nudge to her side and some guy squeeze in next to her.
“Hey, Gus, can I get a Ketel One on the rocks and whatever she’s drinking,” he said, and when she turned to look way up at the guy next to her, her eyes widened. It was the guy in the Lamborghini she’d seen pull up in front as her and her friends walked into Carlyle’s and had noticed him surrounded by women. He smirked at her expression, and she immediately stood straighter.
“No need to, Gus. I’m fine as I am.” She turned around to face the crowd.
“You’re not accepting my drink?” the hottie in the white jacket asked her.
She glanced at him, giving him the once-over, which nearly backfired on her.
“No thank you. Not interested,” she said to him, and a few of his friends said hello and they shook hands and then introduced themselves to her. She said hello and then continued to look at her friends, who noticed the hot guys and immediately came off the dance floor.
“Hey, you’re the guy with the Lamborghini,” Cherie stated and wiped her brow with a napkin then stood by Venetia. He smiled.
“I was going to ask your friend here if she wanted a ride,” he said to Venetia.
“Seriously, do I look like one of those bimbos who have been swarming around you all night?” she asked and rolled her eyes then exhaled in annoyance.
He looked her over and licked his lower lip. The man was gorgeous, and she suddenly wished she wasn’t so scared to let go and live a little and even have sex again. She didn’t want to waste her time on non-committal sex. Hell, she wasn’t even sure she could have sex again after the last time and the violent way Conan had taken from her body. She looked away.
“So, you’ve been watching me,” he said to her, flirting, giving her elbow a nudge, which, for some reason, sent tiny vibrations up her arm and right to her pussy.
How the hell did he do that? She shouldn’t have said what she had. Now he thought he had a chance and that she was playing hard to get. She didn’t like how she felt. She sort of panicked at the fact she found the rich, snobbish gigolo attractive. Hadn’t she learned anything? Now she was getting angry for her body’s reaction.
“It’s kind of hard not to notice an entourage of desperate women following around a man like puppy dogs.”
“So is the answer no in accepting a ride with me when I’ve chosen you out of all those puppy dogs following me? Perhaps I just wanted to get to know you?” he asked, gave her a wink and stared down into her eyes intently.
She didn’t like the way he said he’d chosen her. It sounded like Conan, like a man who was accustomed to getting what he wanted. What about what she wanted? What any woman wanted? Respect, compassion, commitment, understanding, love, or just good, old honesty?
“You chose me, and did you just refer to me as a puppy dog?”
He chuckled. “No,” he said very seriously as he looked her body over, which, again, had some sort of an effect on her she wasn’t willing to accept.
“Definitely not referring to you as a puppy dog.” He smirked.
She stepped away from the bar and gave him another once-over.
“Save it for the bimbos. I’m not even your type at all.” She went to move, and he stopped her.
“Not my type?”
She gazed over his body as he had done to her. She hadn’t expected his eyes to widen as though he was completely shocked that she hadn’t thrown herself at him.
“Do you trust me, like you just trusted my brothers?” She nodded immediately, and he smiled. “Good girl.”
He ran his palms up and down her thighs.
“You can touch me if you want to,” he told her, and she looked at his muscles and the cross he wore around his neck.
She eased her palms up against him and then pressed forward to kiss his nipple. He tightened up and had to breathe through his nostrils. She then leaned closer and kissed along his neck then his chin and to his mouth. He reached around her body and unclipped her top. She paused and stared at him.
“Trust me,” he whispered.
When she let her arms fall to her sides, he nearly lost control. The top fell, exposing both large, full breasts. The tan marks along her areola and nipple indicated she’d worn some skimpy bikini to sunbathe.
He cupped both breasts and heard his brothers mumble. She gasped and held on to his forearms.
He leaned forward to suckle a breast and twirled his tongue over the tip then tugged. Venetia moaned softly and gripped his arms tighter.
“How is your drink?” he asked her.
“Okay,” she said, releasing a slow breath.
“Can I taste it?”
“I guess so,” she said, not having a clue what he intended to do.
He eased her back over the ottoman.
“Place your arms above your head,” he ordered.
“Titan.” She said his name in a shaky voice.
“I’m always in control, but your pleasure always comes first. Remember that and I guarantee you’ll love what I do to you.”
She took an uneasy breath but then laid her arms back above her head, exposing both breasts and her belly to him.
He reached for the cup with her drink in it, dipped his finger into the cup, then dripped bits of the fluid onto her breasts then to her belly button. He heard her intake of breath and could sense someone joining him on the deck, but he didn’t look to see who it was. Instead, he eased over her and began to lick and suckle the drips of alcohol off her skin. In between suckling her breasts, he spoke to her. “So sweet and delicious. I bet not as delicious as you.”
“Oh, God, Titan.” She lifted her arms up, and he tapped them. “No. You leave them down. I’m going to bring you pleasure, baby. A little taste is what I want and need. Do you trust me to bring you pleasure?”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and he suckled against her belly then along the waist of her bikini and then the tattoo.
“Will you let me pleasure you?” he asked her.
“Yes.” Then her eyes widened. He gave a quick glance over his shoulder to see Apollo was gripping the railing, staring at Venetia.
Titan slid over her body and kissed her mouth. He pecked at her lips and then at her arms lying back against the cushion.
When he smoothed fingers under the waist of her bottoms, she tightened up.
“Relax and let me in. You want this. We will always put you first and protect you. Give me this chance to prove it.” He suckled against her neck before going back to her lips and then her breast. He eased his fingers down into her bottoms and was pleasantly surprised to find her bare and wet. He tugged on her clit, and she lifted her pelvis up.
He teased her clit some more, and she moaned and then said his name while he suckled her breast hard.
“Titan. Oh, God please.” She moaned.
He slid a finger up into her wet channel, and she started lifting her pelvis.
“That’s it, baby. You want more. You want me to taste your sweet cream and make you come all over my face?” he asked and added a second finger and stroked faster.
“Yes. Oh, God, more.”
He lifted up and used one hand to pull down her bottoms. He lowered to the floor and thrust his fingers into her cunt then replaced them with his mouth. He licked and sucked hard, and then he heard Apollo’s voice.
“Arms up. Don’t move,” he ordered.
She gasped, and Titan felt her come from Apollo’s orders. He slurped and sucked and then glanced up to see Apollo above her, caressing up her arms and over her breasts as he kissed her from above. She was moaning, panting, thrusting her hips, and he couldn’t get enough of her taste. He suckled harder then replaced tongue with fingers and stroked faster and faster. She moaned as she released more cream, but he felt her tightness. She wasn’t fully there yet.
“Come hard, Venetia. Don’t hold back. Give it to us.”
Apollo released her lips and then slid his fingers down her body to her cunt. Titan pulled his fingers away, and now Apollo was stroking her pussy.
“Oh, God, I can’t. I can’t.”
“You can.” Apollo pulled out and then moved around to where Titan was.
Titan stood up and switched spots. Apollo lowered down between her legs and began to thrust fingers into her cunt then alternate tongue and fingers. She was thrusting upward as their brothers surrounded her, watched over her, and encouraged her.
Roman cupped a breast then leaned down to suckle and pull on it. On the other side, Garvan did the same thing to her other breast.
“Let go of the past. Trust us with this, Venetia. It’s only the beginning,” Roman said to her.