Diablo Blanco Club: Unfair Advantage by Qwillia Rain Page B

a mixture of colors: gold, amber, sienna, and walnut. Hues most complementary to the olive tone of Lawrence’s skin. Each of these shades accented her riot of chocolate curls and highlighted the voluptuous curves of her small frame.
    Every line, every curve his portrait revealed was taken from his imagination and eight years of careful, discreet observation. In a few days, his planning would come to fruition. She would be his. His fingers tightened on the crystal rocks glass in his hand as he visualized his woman, just as he’d painted her.
    Arms bound above her head, pussy tight around his cock as he thrust in counterpoint to Richard’s advance and retreat within Mattie’s snug little ass. Each emotion would dance across her expressive features, heightening his arousal as her climax built. He could practically feel the wet clasp of her flesh. Hear the ragged breaths soughing in and out of her lips. Sense every subtle tightening of muscle as her body wound closer and closer to release, intensifying his own arousal until the rhythmic ride of his cock within her would escalate into a hammering frenzy of motion. Spiraling need demanding he and Richard fuck her harder, faster in order to assist her in achieving euphoric oblivion. Reaching for the single moment when every nerve in her body stretched to its very limit before snapping. Flinging her entire being into an ecstatic free fall that seemed to last forever and just the blink of an eye all at once.
    Bryce released the tight grip he had on the crystal as he envisioned the hazy, dreamlike quality his possession and sharing of her would produce in Mattie’s wide brown eyes. The deep chocolate color would turn black as she slipped into orgasm. Her strawberry lips would part with a gasping cry of his name, and her tight, wet cunt would squeeze his cock dry.
    Lifting his gaze back to the painting, Bryce smiled. He was looking forward to enacting his eight-year fantasy. After the events of this evening in his office, his imagination now had more material to work with. The grip of her sheath was tighter than he’d thought; just as the taste of her cream left him wanting more. As for the look on her face—his free hand dropped to stroke the hard evidence of his arousal—watching her come as she fucked herself on his fingers surpassed any fantasy he could have contemplated.
    With five more days to go, he knew the need to take her completely would test his control, but it would all be worth it once she married him. Introducing her to the world she’d been born to inhabit, it was his responsibility to protect her even as he pushed her boundaries. His own disquiet at the thought of sharing her would need to be harnessed, despite his never having experienced it with any of his other lovers. Once he’d shared Lawrence with Richard, everything would return to normal. He had to keep reminding himself of that. It was all falling into place.
    Just as he’d planned.
    By the end of the week, the oils should be dry to the touch, thanks to the alkyds he’d mixed with the paint. The leather for the frame was coiled and waiting for him to braid into a rope on the workbench against the wall. Taking a sip from the scotch he’d poured earlier, he reached for his cell phone and punched in one of the programmed numbers.
    A deep male voice answered, “Henderson.”
    “David?”
    “It’s past eleven, Halsey.”
    “I need you to do a background check.”
    “Couldn’t this wait…?”
    “I need details.”
    The private investigator paused, seeming to understand the curt tone as one not to be argued with. “Who?”
    “Lawrence.”
    “Lawrence who?”
    “My Lawrence.”
    “Mattie?”
    The surprise in David’s voice made Bryce smile. “Yes.”
    An exasperated sigh sounded over the phone. “My father did a thorough background search when you hired her.”
    “Not what I want.” Taking a swallow of his drink, he waited for the mellow burn to loosen the twist in his gut. The damned