Unveil by Elodie Hart EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Elodie Hart
- Language: English
- Genre: Contemporary Romance Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
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I have a problem with faking orgasms.
Let me rephrase, because that’s unclear. You could take it to mean I
object to the principle of faking orgasms, and you’d be right.
I run a sex club, for Christ’s sake. The entire point of its existence is to
ensure real orgasms on tap.
Or you could also take it to mean I have a problem, and the problem is
that I have to fake orgasms.
You’d be right on that count, too.
Maybe I’m being a typical female and making myself the problem,
when, in actual fact, the problem is them.
The guys I date.
The guys I fuck.
I have an admirable dating life out there in the world and a red-hot sex
life behind Alchemy’s closed doors. Or, more accurately, the closed doors
of its Playroom.
The problem is, those worlds don’t converge.
I have indeed had orgasms on tap last week and every week. Take, for
example, that hot Turkish guy last Friday night who tied me up and fucked
me in one of Alchemy’s private rooms like he was being sent off to serve a
life sentence. But when a guy looks—and acts—like he’s just walked off
the set of 365 Days, it behoves you to give him a wide berth when it comes
to actual dating.
And when, time after time, attractive, successful bankers and
entrepreneurs and hedge fund managers and tech moguls ask you out for
dinner, and are full of intelligence and wit and charm, and there’s a cerebral
spark of sorts, and the conversation is stimulating, and the evening flies by?
Well, then it behoves you to take things back to your bedroom where
you end up faking it out of politeness and a desire to draw a line under the
evening and get them the fuck out of your flat. Because, while most of them
are in possession of a decent-sized cock and know where to put it, they are
vanilla as fuck.
And no matter how hot they are, or how much they work out, or how
genuine the intellectual spark between us is, I’m not going to go up in
flames at some unimaginative missionary, no matter how hard they give it
to me.
Of course, I never say anything, except for oh, yes and oh my God,
that’s—right there, yeah, and whatever else I can muster up. The poor guys
don’t have a clue that I need more. Because, outside of the debauched
confines of Alchemy and in my actual, real life where I’m searching for an
actual, real life partner, I don’t speak up. I don’t complain. And I don’t ask
for what I need. I mean, what’s the point?
Alchemy’s ruined me, obviously. That much is true. Sleeping with a
nice, sensible guy after being fucked by the animals at the club is like trying
to sate yourself with a cosy mystery after reading the most disgusting dark
romance you can get your hands on.
In a word…
Underwhelming.
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