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As I stand in my bedroom, naked as the day I was born, waiting for Dom to tell me how he wants me, all of the things I was worried about seem to move further into the back of my mind. Beaten back by the need humming in my veins and the fire burning in the dark eyes boring into mine.
Finally, Dom’s lips curve into a sinister smile, and my heart starts to pound in my chest. He’s decided. The knot of anxiety in my belly begins to unravel at the sight, relaxing into a languid spiral of need that has a slow rush of arousal moving through my core.
“Get over here,” Dom says.
His legs are open, relaxed into that king’s pose that makes my heart skip a beat and exposes the erection tenting his pants. I cross the room and slip between them, my breasts bouncing in his face when I finally reach him. His hands go to my hips, caressing the skin there with a gentleness that makes me shiver because it’s in direct contradiction to the gravel in his voice when he says, “Kiss me.”
I don’t hesitate. Dipping my head down and taking his lips in an embarrassingly clumsy kiss that makes him laugh. I close my eyes, letting the sound wash over me, and lower myself onto his lap. Dom wraps his arms around me, crushing my body to his until it’s almost hard to breathe. Every pass of my lips over his is a hungry glide that doesn’t even begin to touch the need building inside of me.
Not just the need to find my release or help him find his, but the need to be close to him. To climb inside of his skin and never come out. To etch myself in his veins until my name is written in his blood. To brand him with my touch the same way he’s branded me. To be as necessary to him as oxygen. To make him love me as much as I love him.
To ensure that he’s as wrecked by this ill-advised relationship as you are? What a recklessly desperate thing to do to someone you claim to love.
I break the kiss, startled by the agonizing truth of my thoughts, and Dom groans underneath me, clearly frustrated by how suddenly I pulled away from him. His eyes crinkle at the sides while confusion glitters in his nearly-blown pupils.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur against his lips. “My mind is just everywhere right now.”
“Angel, if you’re thinking about anything besides what we’re doing, then I’m not doing something right.” He lays back on the bed and gazes up at me while I straddle his hips. “I know how to get you out of your head.”
I wiggle my ass over the bar of steel nestled between my cheeks and arch a brow. “You’re right. Sitting on this does always seem to do the trick.”
“You can sit on that later. Right now I want you to take a seat right here.”
He gestures towards his handsome face and offers me a devilish smile. Immediately, I’m transported back to that first day in the Presidential Suite at La Grande Nuit when he told me I could say I hated him and he’d still want me to sit on his face.
That day I knew I didn’t hate him, but I could have never imagined just a few weeks later we’d be here. Me, hopelessly in love with him. Him, completely oblivious to the emotions rioting inside of me.
When I don’t start moving immediately, Dom sits up and grips my hips, yanking me up his body as he lays back down until my pussy is hovering over his face and my hands are gripping the headboard. Both of his hands are on my ass, and he uses them to urge me closer until the entire lower half of his face disappears into my sex. I can feel the heat of his breath coasting over the sensitive flesh, making me quiver.
“Your pussy is so perfect, Sloane.” He breathes, every word making his lips brush over my clit. “So perfect and so fucking mine.”
The first lash of his tongue has me crying out and fighting the urge to come even though my orgasm is a raging storm cloud, full and overwhelming with the need to be released. My hips roll into his mouth of their own volition, and Dom lets out a masculine grunt of satisfaction when I start to fuck his face. His tongue flutters over my clit, and my walls start to tremble.
I know I’m not going to last long like this. It’s all too much. The emotions swirling in my chest and the desire pounding in my veins. Dom’s hands on my body and the greedy, reverent noises he’s making as he devours me. Like burying his face in my pussy is the only thing he’s ever wanted to do.
Like using his body to worship mine is his sole reason for existing.
Then two of his fingers slip inside of me from behind, plunging into my core without a bit of resistance thanks to the wetness slipping out of me, sliding down my legs and coating Dom’s chin and chest. The pressure from his fingers inside of me is delicious and resisting the urge to rock into them is impossible. I lift up a bit, angling my hips forward so my clit is directly aligned with his busy tongue, while his skillful fingers move in and out of me in a steady rhythm.
I grasp at the edges of the headboard desperately, letting my eyes fall shut as I give over to the sensation of being feasted on by the most incredible man. Then Dom pulls my clit into his mouth, sucking in steady pulses that force open the floodgates, and I come with a thready cry as pleasure courses through me. Every muscle in my soaked channel clenching desperately at his fingers, my tender flesh quaking over his tongue for long moments.
My brain doesn’t even register that he’s flipped us over until my back hits the pillows and Dom’s gentle lips are raining kisses over my face and down my neck. My scent is all over him, my juices glistening like dewdrops in the hairs of his beard. I relish every kiss, letting every sip he takes from my skin soak into my soul while my eyes fall shut.
“Open those eyes, angel,” Dom whispers, planting a final kiss against the corner of my mouth before pulling away from me. “I’m not done with you yet.”
The loss of his body heat leaves my damp skin exposed and vulnerable to the cool air. Goosebumps break out across every inch, and I moan in protest as I open my eyes to see where he’s gone. I find him standing on the side of the bed, ridding his body of every stitch of clothing in record time. When his erection springs free from his briefs, hard and throbbing, I hum my appreciation and lick my lips.
“I want that in my mouth.”
Dom smiles as he grips his dick, squeezing it with the kind of roughness I’d never be brave enough to use for fear of hurting him. Mischief swirls in the never-ending pools of obsidian as he pumps himself with long, thorough strokes that make my mouth water.
“I could put it in your mouth. I could fuck your face until I come down your throat and you swallow every last drop…”
“Yes, please.”
My pussy throbs incessantly at the thought, hunger, and need mixing with the urge to please him. To keep us in this moment where everything feels right, instead of that weird and awkward place we’ve been suspended in for the last few hours. I start to sit up, eager to get my hands on him to do exactly that, but he shakes his head and climbs back onto the bed, settling his large frame over mine. I spread my legs to make space for the span of his hips and stare up at him.
“But I’d much rather look into your eyes while I sink into you.” He hooks a hand behind one of my knees and bends it back, holding it in place while the other grips my hip, so I’m pinned down and held open for him in the most exquisite way. “I’d much rather memorize every line of your gorgeous face when I’m so deep inside of you the only thing you feel is me.”
