“Dom,” I whisper.
“We’re almost there,” he groans, his voice tight.
“Look.”
This might be the only chance we get to be together. After this—he’ll hate you… No, no. Not that, not now. Just this moment. Just us.
He turns slowly, his eyes snapping wide when he sees me sliding my hand between my legs. He’s got his fists clenched on his thighs, staring in awe. I push the hem of my dress aside, stunned by my confidence, and begin rubbing the outside of my tights and underwear. I let out a moan.
He turns away, practically vibrating, then grabs his phone again.
Dominic: Keep rubbing that slit. But don’t you dare come in this limo. You’re going to bring yourself to the very edge, THEN FUCKING WAIT THERE. If you understand, moan twice.
I let out two moans in quick succession. He nods, staring out the window, trembling like a volcano about to blow. For the rest of the trip, I do what he demands, gently brushing my fingertips against my clit through my clothes.
When the limo finally stops, Dom throws the door open and then reaches down for me. I squeal in delight when he hauls me from the car and lifts me into his arms as though I weigh nothing.
“I thought you were kidding about carrying me,” I breathe.
“Listen to you,” he groans. “On the fucking edge already. I bet you’d cream, soak your underwear, if I started rubbing you right now on the street.”
I wrap my arms tightly around him as he carries me to the apartment door. I root around in my bag for my key, lean down while still in his arms—he kneels slightly to help—and unlock the door. He carries me up the stairs to my apartment.
Once we’re inside and alone, he walks quickly to the bedroom.
He puts me down, then looks around for a moment, a small smile on his face, somehow puncturing the wild lust. His gaze lingers on a picture on the wall. It’s me at thirteen, on a stage with a violin in my hand.
“Hey,” I murmur, raising my eyebrow in challenge. “Have you forgotten about me?”
You’re trouble, Songbird. That’s what he said, and when he looks at me, it’s like I know that’s what he’s thinking now. But only because he thinks I’m fun and turned-on and carefree, and sure, I qualify for the first two. But carefree? Me?
He climbs slowly onto the bed, guiding his lips to mine. I’ve never felt kisses like these. It’s like each one is a key opening the door to a rushing wave of pleasure. I wrap my legs around him, rocking my body up and down. With each grind of our heat against each other, it becomes easier to forget about everything else.
He leans back slightly, letting him slide his hand between our bodies. He grips my thigh like he owns me. And here, now, he does. I want him to. He pushes up my leg, opens my legs, and drives the heel of his palm against my sensitive nub.
I’m still buzzing from the limo, my own feather-light touches triggering the lust and making me hot and ready. He brings his mouth to my ear, his husky whisper sending hot shivers down my neck and over my shoulders.
“If I feel your naked pussy,” he growls, “there’s no going back. You need to be sure this is the song you want to sing.”
I clutch his firm shoulders, my nails biting into warm skin. One day, I might regret not taking him up on his offer. Maybeeverything would’ve been simpler if I hadn’t fallen so hard into this feeling.
“I want it,” I whisper. “I want you,sir.”
“Fuck,” he groans.
He slips his hand under my tights and into my underwear. His hand smooths across my pubic bone and finds my core. When he finds how wet I am, he groans and glides his palm from my entrance to my clit, then flattens his hand so that he can touch every part of me.
I pant as my hips take over, chasing the heat in his hand. I pump my hips up and down.
You’re trouble?—
And love how wild it makes him. My confidence, my desire, fuels his lust. I can hear it in his moans.
Songbird—
His breaths, the way he rubs me faster, harder, insistent on dragging out every morsel of pleasure from me. Soon, my breath catches as the orgasm rises up inside of me. He pulls his hand away, standing.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
