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“Most women wouldn’t laugh at such a serious crime,” I tease. “Bribery’s no joke.”
“You’re right,” she sasses. “There must be something very wrong with me. You should run while you have the chance. I’m crazy, Damian.”
I laugh grimly and pull her close to me, enveloping her and Sparky together, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and hugging her close.
“You’ve made me crazy, so I think it’s only fair you’ve gone the same way.”
The doors beep open to display a hallway decorated in sleek rugs, the floor beneath bone-white marble. The décor is modern and elegant, with wire-thin silver chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and glinting crystal-pale light.
Dakota’s mouth falls open as she turns to me, mouthing What the heck.
“You like?” I grin like a wild wolf.
“Um, yeah,” she says, as we make our way into the living room.
“This place is bigger than most houses,” she gasps.
There’s a tusk-white piano in the corner and the entire far wall is lined with floor to ceiling windows looking out upon the city, the lights glittering below just as they glitter above, the stars winking down at us. There’s a glass display cabinet with fancy chinaware and a wall panel that looks like it holds a massive TV. Through another door and we’re in the kitchen, with more white marble for the island and shelves that are built into the walls.
“This place …” She shakes her head, smiling at me across the kitchen island. Sparky’s pawing at one of the cupboards close to the ground, tilting his head at me, moaning softly. “I guess we’ve found out which one’s the fridge, huh?” she says.
I kneel down next to the hound and stroke him under the chin.
“Smell something you like, boy?”
I open the cupboard and realize that it’s the fridge door like Dakota guessed. Inside there’s a bunch of snacks and booze, with Sparky’s nose immediately magnetized by the beef jerky.
“Deluxe,” Dakota laughs, reading over my shoulder. “Since when could you get deluxe beef jerky?”
“Since now, I guess.”
I tear open the packet and hand Sparky a generous helping. He snatches it and wriggles his way through the suite, finding a quiet corner to devour it.
“He deserves a treat,” I say, standing.
Dakota folds her arms, pushing up those squeeze-me breasts of hers. “I didn’t say anything.”
“I know,” I murmur.
“I think you feel guilty that we don’t have any dog food for Sparky,” Dakota teases. “I guess we learned who the bad cop parent is going to be, at least.”
That just does it for my manhood.
It damn near explodes at the word parent, a visceral reminder that to become the parents we both want to be, I’m going to have to pommel and spank and pound my curvy personal fuck-toy.
I surge forward without thinking, palming those breasts, pushing her up against the counter so that I can squeeze them together. She gasps and stares at me, head tilted, like prey who hasn’t realized what’s happening to her yet.
I slide my hands down her body, and then back up, under her shirt and to those warm-as-fuck tits. Under her bra, and then I’m twisting her and kissing at her nipples with my fingertips, playing with them, playing her like she’s my goddamned instrument.
She sings for me, grinding against my leg.
“Jesus,” I snarl. “Are you going to cream just from this?”
“I—don’t—know,” she moans.
“But you want to try,” I snarl. “No need to answer. That wasn’t a fucking question.”
I rub her nipples faster, using the friction to power the song-like notes that come moaning and shivering out of her full lips. I squeeze and palm and massage, leaning back and regarding her as she twitches and rides the pleasure.
Then her moans pick up and her twitching becomes a wild dance, her mouth open in shock and lust all mixed together, her cheeks blazing the red of a hundred fires.
“Oh …”
“That’s it,” I growl, lightly tweaking those hard pricked nipples. “God damn, I can just imagine sweet milk creaming out of these. I bet it’ll taste so good.”
Her breath hitches and she lets out a hollow gasp.
“You like it when I talk like that, eh? You like it when I talk dirty to you?” I growl.
She bites her lip, moaning, trying to meet my eyes but too caught up in her pleasure to focus. Her eyes are filled with stark tears of near-release.
“Just imagine,” I snarl, always touching, always bringing her closer to the edge. “I’ll throw you on the bed and tear off your shirt with my teeth. I’ll find your horny hard nipples and bite into your breast, bite the gorgeous meatiness of them, and then I’ll suck – hard – I’ll suck until your nipples are burning, giving me your sweet milk.”
Everything pauses for a few moments as she hovers in the pleasure, and then finally she lets out a long song-like moan and collapses against me, whimpering.
