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come to mine. “Do I get to keep it?”
    “Of course.” He empties his wallet onto the bench and throws that down too. I hate this. I hate the money side of this. Which begs the question, why do I do this? For the money? Or for the thrill?
    Do I even know anymore?
    “I give you permission to remove my thong.” I lower my front and wait as he raises his hands. “But…” I add and see his hand stop only inches from me. I wriggle a little and my arse cheek taps his hovering fingers. “You’re only allowed to touch the satin and nothing else. If you touch me, I pull away.”
    “A game… I like it.” He chuckles a little. “Will you buzz if I touch the sides?”
    I lift and twist again. “Do you want to play or not, my Lord Duke?”
    “Feisty. I like your fire.”
    I roll my eyes back to the pole and lower myself once more.
    I feel his fingertips brush over the top band of satin. They pluck at the fabric gently, teasing to see how tight it is. I lower my head and see his cock completely abandoned, pointing straight at my face. It’s still rock solid but when full is too thick and heavy to stay pointing at the ceiling.
    My body jolts when I feel the tips of two fingers touch the satin that covers the bare mound below my navel. At first I think he’s going to pull my thong down, but then I feel his fingers scrape from mound to clit and a zap of pleasure pings through my body like fireworks in a dark sky.
    I sexually awaken and tremble all over.
    Just one touch.
    That’s all it took for me to groan like a sex-deprived woman. “That’s not allowed.”
    “I didn’t touch beyond the satin,” he states devilishly and I want to slap that smug look off his face before I make him eat me. “That was the deal.”
    “The deal was for you take off my underwear without touching.”
    “Oh, I must have misheard.” He pushes two strong fingers against my clit again.
    “You’re crossing a line,” I say and a spasm so strong I almost can’t breathe rips through me when he starts to circle my swelling nub with his fingers. The soft satin only amplifies the feel of it. “Stop…”
    He stops, though the hand on his cock moves up and down almost violently. “You don’t want me to stop.”
    “No,” I tell him truthfully. “But I need you to.”
    Pinching the fabric that shields my entrance, he begins to pull my thong away and down, revealing my drenched sex to his viewing pleasure. And pleasure he takes.
    “You have the most perfect little…” He grunts and shifts up in his seat to get a closer look. “I want you to touch me again. I need you to touch me again.”
    “No.”
    “Please,” he begs, furiously pumping himself to the sight of me.
    “No,” I repeat through gritted teeth.
    “FUCK!”
    Hearing him come undone at the mere sight and thought of me makes me want to cry with frustration. I hate labelling anyone such vulgar names but at this point in time, I’m nothing but a wanton whore and my brother in law is my victim.
    Hopefully he’ll tire of me.
    Something tells me my hopes are pointless and I’ll be seeing him again soon enough.
    “I need you. Let me have you.” He states and I see him sit on his free hand. “I’ll give you anything. Fucking anything.”
    I stay silent, scared to speak because I might say yes.
    “God,” he murmurs and grips the base of his cock with a tight hand. His following grunts are quiet but powerful. I feel them as well as hear them. I watch his legs tense and quiver and his hips threaten to buck as his seed spurts onto the leather bench and floor.
    I’ve never been so sexually frustrated in all of my life.
    We remain as we are, suspended in time, listening to nothing but the sound of his heaving chest.
    “I still want to touch you. My desire isn’t sated,” he admits and his hand drifts slowly up my thigh, without touching, only floating across the surface of my skin.
    I move to stand but his finger hooks around my thong that is still around my thighs. “You