Champagne and sins

Eloise’s pov

The neon lights flashed across the soaked, busy streets, and dusk had fallen quicker than usual. I stood by the window, overlooking how people ran to find shelter from the sudden downpour.

The soft music of the bar echoes from a distance, a reminder of where I had chosen to spend my evening.

“Miss, your order.” The waiter hauls me out of my thoughts.

“Thank you.”

As I sipped on my fifth glass of champagne for the evening, my mind spiraled back to three days ago.

The fight with Lesley, my husband’s sister. I was never the person to begin an argument, but she'd called me barren. Erin, my so-called husband, sat and watched without a word.

Three years of a stupid marriage I never asked to be part of. At only twenty, my father had sold me to the leader of a cartel. Erin Stark. The fattest human I had ever laid eyes on. He was old, with broken brown teeth, and very ugly.

I promised never to have his child, so I took the after pills often, and now, after three years, I'm being mocked in the Casa Nostra. Not like I cared.

Tonight I had decided to have fun, to forget my worries — the main reason I was on a weekend vacation outside the city. One of the advantages of being a Don’s wife was the cash and luxurious life, which flowed nonstop, so I lived in it.

As I scanned the room, my gaze caught a man walking into the bar. And d*mn, he is fine.

This stranger caught my attention without even doing too much. Tall, handsome, and arrogant. His aura gave him off.

“Exactly what I need,” I murmur as I gulp my drink in one go.

He and his team walk straight past me to the enclosed room beside my table. I catch a whiff of his perfume, and it gets my legs trembling.

“Bastardo!” a voice snapped. Thirty minutes after they arrived, I turned to see them leaving — well, except for my crush. He and some other men stood by the door, arguing in Spanish.

“I need a drink,” he roared, walking past me to the bar downstairs, which I follow immediately. From a distance, I watch him order a bottle as he gulps it straight from the bottle.

“Whatever’s got you drinking that much must be serious,” my voice echoes.

He pauses, stares at me from head to toe. Well, I was covered in a long brown coat, my blonde hair tied up in a messy bun without makeup. So much for coming to a bar.

“You are beautiful, but I'm not interested,” he spat.

He was the rude type. Seeing him up close now, he looked far more dangerous than I imagined. Tattoos on his exposed skin, with long brown hair that covered his forehead.

I was already visualizing how huge his c*ck would be. F*ck! That's if he falls for my charm.

“What? Not your type?” I slurred. Maybe it was the liquor, but I was daring tonight. Well, f*ck it, I'm on vacation.

He locked eyes with me now, his cold blue ones searing into mine. I swallowed hard.

After a moment without a word, he handed me the bottle. I smiled, but I grabbed it. After a few gulps, he spoke.

“I haven't f*ck*d in two months.” In the coldest tone ever. My breath seized, too stunned to speak, and I looked away blushing.

“That must be frustrating.” I finally spoke, “Very.” He nods.

“What would I do to have you open your coat? I want to see what's beneath.” He let out. Daring, and it got to me.

“You s*ck p*ssy?”

He growled low, then drank from his bottle again, and he grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of the bar.

“Ahhhh! Hmm… oh please yes… yes! Just like that, oh, f*ck!” My lips trembled as my moans escaped me, with my back against the cold wall, with both my legs hanging on a stranger's shoulder as he skillfully s*ck*d on my p*ssy.

He had pulled me out through the back entrance, and we moved towards a deserted alley, where he asked me to take off my coat.

“Oh God,” he whispered when I dropped the coat. Tonight I wanted to go all the way, so I dressed up in a s*xy see-through, thigh-length gown with no bra and only a thong. You could see everything.

“I haven't had a good f*ck in three years,” I told him.

“Well, let's change that.”

After stripping me down, he'd gone down on his knees and now worshiped me between.

I lost control when he plunged his fingers inside me, while his tongue worked magic on my cl*t; messy sounds of him lapping on my juices, mixed with my moans, filled the once quiet area.

A hot, burning orgasm ripped through me minutes after Mr. Stranger s*ck*d and licked me dry, like the sweetest meal he'd ever tasted. I was a mess as he moved up, tugging some messy hair away from my face. My legs wrapped around his waist now.

“I'm going to f*ck you raw,” he whispers and then thrusts into me, unexpectedly, “Ohh. I gasp in pain and pleasure. He was big, too big. I knew my tight hole would never remain the same.

He stilled, sharp breaths escaping his lungs.

“I want you to call me Ace when I f*ck you… understand?”

“Yes... Ace.” I whimpered.

“Wrap your arms around my neck,” he orders, squeezing my bare *ss. I did as told, and then he moved nice and slow.

Out here in another country, in an empty alley, with my back against a wall while this handsome stranger fucks me behind a bar. What beats this?

“Oh, f*ck… yes, Ace, f*ck me just like that.” I cried as he went faster now; the sounds of our slapping flesh echoed into the still night.

“D*mn…this p*ssy,” he groaned, pounding harder, “I want you to come for Ace… C*m on this c*ck, honey.”

There it was, at his command, I came tumbling down the high mountain he had driven me to.

By the time I settled from my trembling orgasm, two blue orbs watched me without blinking.

“You are coming back with me to the ship.”