I can’t believeI’m doing this, I thought as my knees hit the hard floor. My thighs clenched in anticipation, my mouth watering for a taste of Nero in his sexy-as-sin suit.
Something was seriously wrong with me. I shouldn’t be turned on by this, or enjoying his dark proclivities, but from the moment he told me his desire, it’d become mine as well. And now I’d be damned if I tried to stop myself.
What was more, I wanted to prove my worth to him. To seduce and please him so thoroughly that he didn’t doubt once why he’d chosen me.
I wanted to make him beg for more.
He spread his legs to accommodate me as I settled between his knees, my palms on his upper thighs. Everything in his posture screamed nonchalance, as if he wasn’t at all intrigued by my presence at his feet.
That was about to change.
I slid my hand upward to his belt, deftly undoing the buckle. Heat emanated from his groin, taunting my fingers as I unbuttoned his dress pants and drew down his zipper.
No boxers or briefs.
Just pure man.
And damn, that was hot.
I gripped his thick shaft, eager to touch him and explore. The other night hadn’t afforded me the opportunity to get up close and personal with him. Not like this. And now I craved the ability to truly feel him.
So soft.
I shifted forward, thankful for the higher table, and bent to lick the pre-cum from his head. A groan caught in my throat at the salty, masculine flavor. This was an act I’d never imagined myself wanting to do, but with Nero, I absolutely wanted to proceed. Not only that, but I also wanted to own him with my mouth, to put all of his previous experiences to shame.
A tall order for someone like me—someone lacking in training and exposure to such acts—but I didn’t let it stop me. My instincts took over, driving my mouth down over his cock and taking him as deep as my throat allowed.
He palmed the back of my head, holding me in place when I would have backed off to breathe, and pushed me an inch farther, testing my gag reflex.
I relaxed, trusting him, and focused on accepting his girth instead of reacting. Then the pressure eased, and he allowed me to rise just enough to inhale before guiding me back down again.
I grasped the base of his erection, giving it a squeeze as I fought to swallow enough of him to touch my lips to my skin. His fingers knotted in my hair in response, pulling the strands tightly as his legs flexed around me.
Mmm, a sign of approval, I thought, pleased.
And repeated the action.
“Yes, we would,” Nero said, his voice a deep rumble. It took me a moment to realize he was speaking to the waiter. He rattled off a bottle of wine and requested two glasses. The bored quality of his tone forced me to work harder, sucking him deeper and swirling my tongue over his head as I came up for air.
His muscles were solid on either side of me, his fingers a vise against my scalp, but he continued speaking to the waiter in the most nonchalant manner while ordering our dinners.
I skimmed my teeth across his sensitive flesh in silent reprimand, demanding a reaction from him. One I received in the form of a low growl that I felt all the way to my core. It was the kind of sound a woman wanted to hear while being fucked within an inch of her life.
Similar to the other night.
Desiring to hear it again, I continued my onslaught, applying more pressure and intensity with my mouth. And he rewarded me by flexing his hips upward, seeking more depth. If the waiter remained nearby, I didn’t hear him. But he no longer mattered, only Nero and the orgasm I felt rising beneath my tongue.
I needed him to come so badly it almost hurt. Mostly because I had to taste him, to swallow him, to claim some small part of him in this intrinsically instinctual manner.
His touch shifted to my nape, holding me to him in a less demanding fashion. Because he wanted to give me an opportunity to move? Not a chance. I craved this more than air, and I demonstrated that by hollowing my cheeks, commanding him with my mouth to unleash everything he had down my waiting throat.
He squeezed my neck only once, providing an unspoken signal of his impending release just before he erupted with hot jets of cum across my expectant tongue. I swallowed him thoroughly, accepting every drop and moaning in response to how right it felt to receive him in this way.
Never before had I wanted to drink from a man, but with Nero, I wanted to bathe in his masculinity, luxuriate in his presence, and absorb every inch of him into my very soul.
It made no sense.
I’d just met him.
