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My fingernails dig into his jeans as he continues his punishing rhythm, driving my open mouth down onto his dick over and over again. Hitting the back of my throat while I moan around him. I love every moment of it, and the power of owning his pleasure, of being more than his best friend’s fragile widow, swells in my chest until all I can feel is it and him.
When Dominic’s movements start to go unsteady, his hips jerking and fingers digging into my scalp, I know he’s close. I smile to myself and suck harder, letting my throat constrict around him with small swallows that have him cursing and warning me he’s about to come.
When the first burst of hot, creamy liquid shoots down my throat, I nearly choke from how thick it is. And I only get a second to recover from the warning shot before Dominic explodes in my mouth with a ragged grunt that almost makes me come again. I swallow every drop of it, feeling incredibly triumphant for a woman on her knees. And nothing, not even the ache in them, can take away the heady rush of power moving through me as I lick Dominic clean with his shaky breaths skating across my skin.
“Enough.” He says harshly, reaching down and pushing me away.
I watch with a smile as he shoves himself back into his jeans before his dick gets completely hard again. He brushes his knuckles across my cheek, his eyes soft with wonder and an all too familiar wariness as they study me.
“I’m fine,” I say, standing up and stretching to relieve the ache in my back. “You can’t conduct a mental assessment every time we do something new, Dominic.”
“Yes, I can.” He stands too, gripping my waist and pulling me close. “Only you would get mad at me for being concerned about your well-being.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and squeal when he picks me up. “I’m not mad. I just don’t want to have to think about the one time I freaked out on you every time one of us has an orgasm.”
“That’s fair.”
My brows lift in surprise at his easy agreement. “So you’ll stop treating me like a ticking time bomb?”
“No.” He laughs. “I’ll just get better at conducting my mental assessments without you knowing.”
“You’re impossible.”
.
26
Sloane
Now
I forgot how good it feels to have regular orgasms that aren’t courtesy of my vibrator or, in moments of true desperation, my own hand. For so long I thought the all-consuming, glowing from the inside out, walking on a cloud, feeling was lost to me forever.
But after three weeks of Dominic fucking me with his fingers and worshiping me with his sinful tongue on every available surface—my bed, my shower, the kitchen counter, and the now finished vanity in the bathroom of the Presidential suite—I can happily say I’m intimately familiar with the post-orgasmic haze and all it’s pleasured filled glory once again.
I feel like my happiness is seeping out of my pores, broadcasting to everyone around me that someone is making me very happy at home.
And that would be a good thing if it didn’t make Dominic stare at me like a loon, his chest puffed out proudly, causing me to blush through every Sunday dinner at Mama’s in the past few weeks. If we weren’t supposed to be acting like two people who are barely friends, I would grin back at him. I would let my feminine pride and never-ending desire for him shine in my eyes and gloss right over the other emotions I’m too scared to put a name to. Instead, I just smile into my phone and text him to cut it out before someone notices.
Not that anyone has noticed.
All of Dominic’s heated gazes and casual touches while we were at Mama’s on Sunday went unnoticed by Mal, and James, who sees us together multiple times a week, hasn’t picked up on anything. He would have to spend more than five seconds in a room with Dominic to do that, though. Our apparent ability to fly under the radar has only encouraged Dominic and made me more anxious about us getting caught. He reassures me every night that things will be fine, even as shadows of something like uncertainty move behind his eyes. And once he’s done using his words to comfort me, he spreads my legs and uses everything but his dick to make me come.
Last night, it was a combination of my vibrator and his tongue. The toy buzzing inside of my soaked channel on its highest setting while he lapped up my juices and sucked on my clit until I saw stars. I came three times like that and begged him to give me more as he rubbed his throbbing dick along my slit, lubricating himself in my juices before climbing up my body and holding my breasts together so he could fuck them.
I moaned and writhed underneath him while he used my body to get himself off, and the sounds he made as he came all over me are still ringing in my ears on Wednesday afternoon as I leave one of the smaller rooms on the seventh floor where Dominic’s team has just installed crown molding. It’s the only reason I don’t realize the door to the storage closet is open until two warm hands grip my waist and haul me through it.
My surprised yelp is muffled by the hand over my mouth, and I immediately quiet as Dominic’s face comes into focus. When he’s sure I won’t scream, he moves his hand to my chin, tipping my face up so he can brush his nose over mine. I smile at the sweet gesture that’s quickly becoming my favorite non-sexual thing that he does.
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs. “I didn’t want to scare you, but I needed a minute alone so I could do this.”
Hungry lips meet mine in a kiss that makes my toes curl. My lips part on a moan, and his tongue slips in. Licking into my mouth with slow, languid strokes that make me think of sex. Of his body on top of mine, the hard ridges of his abs slick with sweat and pressed to my stomach while he reaches the end of me with every thrust.
My arms go to his neck, fingers linking at his nape and pulling him down further so I can deepen the kiss. He lets me hold him there for just a minute before pulling my arms back down and ending it.
I’m pouting when his dark eyes meet mine. “That wasn’t enough.”
Dominic laughs. “It’s never enough for you, angel.”
