I was crossing a line here. We both were. I’d just met him and then he twisted and pinched my nipples in a way that sent lightning sizzling through me. I cried out against his lips then that hungry mouth was kissing a path to my throat.
Cool air whisked over me as he got rid of my clothes. How the fuck had he gotten me naked and he was still dressed? Thenhis hot mouth was on one of my breasts, the hard nip of his teeth, the tense suction, then another lave of his tongue.
My hips bucked. Dominic Walsh was drowning me in sensation. He tormented my breasts, until I wanted to cry out they were so damn sensitive. No one had ever paid them this kind of attention, except maybe me when I was getting myself off. Then he was kissing down my abdomen.
“Fuck!” The word exploded out of me. This was going so fast. Too fast. We should totally slow down, but when he nudged my thighs apart with his shoulders, I spread my legs. Whispers of hot breath teased at my soaked cunt and I caught his gaze as he glanced up at me, dark eyes measuring.
Yes? Or no? He asked without ever voicing a word. Did I want him to continue and I fisted one hand into my covers and reached down for his hair with the other.
“Put that sharp tongue to use, Counselor,” I murmured in a husky voice I barely recognized but his grin sent another jolt of pleasure through me. “And eat me.”
I didn’t have to say another word because he went to work on my cunt like I was his favorite treat, and he wanted to see how many licks it took to get me to pop off.
Tonight…
My groan was a broken thing, torn from my throat as he continued his sweet, exquisite torture. He wasn't just kissing my breasts; he was worshiping them with a sinful kind of reverence. His mouth closed over one peak, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before he gave it a sharp, deliberate nip with his teeth. I cried out, my back bowing off the bed. The sting was fleeting, immediately soothed by the flat of his tongue, then thecool, hard press of his piercing. It was a maddening cycle of pleasure and pain, and I was completely at his mercy. His fingers weren't idle, either. He rolled and tweaked the other nipple, pinching just hard enough to blur the line between discomfort and a blinding, sharp pleasure that shot straight to my core.
Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, he shifted. With a flick of his fingers, the clasp of my bra gave way, and the last scrap of lace was gone. The sudden rush of cool air on my wet, aching nipples was so intense it was almost painful. But his attention was already moving on, a slow, deliberate path down my stomach. He kissed a line over my ribs, dipped his tongue into my navel, his breath ghosting over my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He paused, his gaze hot and heavy on the delicate lace that still covered me.
"These," he murmured, his voice a low growl against my hipbone, "are in the way."
They didn't stand a chance. The fabric was no match for his impatience. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and dragged them down my legs, tossing them aside like they were nothing. And then he was there, settling between my thighs, his shoulders pushing them wider. There was no preamble, no gentle exploration. He lowered his head and gave me an open, sinful, utterly carnal kiss. It wasn't a kiss of discovery; it was a kiss of conquest. He was devouring me, his tongue and lips and teeth claiming every part of me.
And then his piercing found my clit.
The sensation was electric. A sharp, jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure that surged through me, stealing my breath. I cried out, my hands flying to his hair, my fingers fisting in the thick strands. I was torn. One part of me wanted to drag him up my body, to get his mouth on mine and his cock inside me, to end this sweet agony. The other, more primal part of mewanted to shove his face deeper, to grind against his mouth and never let him stop.
He made the decision for me. One of his hands slid up my inner thigh, and then two long, clever fingers were pushing inside me, curving just right. He worked me in a perfect, devastating rhythm, his mouth never ceasing its assault on my clit. The piercing was a constant, wicked pressure, a focal point for all the pleasure building inside me. I could feel it coiling in my stomach, tight and hot and ready to snap. My hips began to move, chasing the release that was just… right… there.
He felt it. He knew. And just as I teetered on the edge, just as the wave began to crest, he slowed. His fingers stilled, his tongue softened its pressure, and he held me there, suspended in agonizing pleasure. I whimpered, a desperate, needy sound, trying to move against him, to force the orgasm he was so cruelly denying me.
"No," he growled against me, the vibration of his word a final, torturous tease. "Not yet."
He was relentless, a god of sensual cruelty, and I was his willing sacrifice. He kept me right there, hovering on that knife's edge of release, his fingers buried deep but still, his mouth a ghost of a touch over my clit. The heat was unbearable, a fire licking up my spine, and I clenched hard around the welcome emptiness of his fingers, a desperate, rhythmic pulse that begged for more. Every muscle in my body was strung taut, vibrating with a need so profound it was painful. I was riveted, utterly captivated by the power he held, by the dark promise in his eyes that he would shatter me, but only when he was damn good and ready.
He did it again. His tongue swirled, his fingers curled, and the pressure built, a tidal wave rising inside me. My breath hitched, my toes curled, and I braced for the fall. And then, just as the first tremor started, he pulled back. A sob of purefrustration tore from my throat. I couldn't take it. I was going to break.
"Please," I whimpered, the word barely recognizable. "Dominic, please."
He lifted his head just enough to look at me, his chin glistening, his eyes black with possession. He watched me for a heartbeat, a long, agonizing heartbeat where I was sure he would deny me again. He seemed to savor my desperation, my utter surrender.
Then, he smiled.
It wasn't a kind smile. It was the smile of a predator who had finally run his prey to ground. He lowered his head and unleashed everything he was holding back. His mouth sealed over me, his tongue a firm, demanding lash, and that little ball of metal worked my clit with a ferocious, focused intent. His fingers began to move again, pumping into me hard and fast, hitting that spot deep inside that made my vision blur.
The dam broke.
The orgasm that ripped through me was violent, absolute. A scream tore from my lungs, his name a ragged, primal cry on my lips. "Dominic!" My whole body clenched, a powerful, convulsive spasm that started in my core and radiated outward in undulating waves of pleasure. My back arched off the bed, my thighs clamping around his head as I shook and shuddered beneath him. It was an endless, cresting wave, each surge more intense than the last, stealing my thoughts, my breath, my very soul. He didn't stop, didn't let up, drawing every last ounce of pleasure from my body until I was a boneless, trembling wreck, sobbing his name into the pillows.
Two years earlier….
He went to work on my cunt like I was his favorite treat, and he wanted to see how many licks it took to get me to pop off. And pop off, I did. It wasn’t a gentle cresting wave; it was a goddamn explosion. A white-hot nova behind my eyes that stole my vision and my breath all at once.
My back bowed off the cheap mattress, a strangled cry ripping from my throat as my entire body seized. He didn’t stop. If anything, the flat of his tongue pressed harder, the rhythm more demanding, drawing out the convulsions until I was a trembling, sobbing mess, utterly wrecked.
I was still floating somewhere in the stratosphere when he finally lifted his head. He wiped his glistening mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes dark with a primal satisfaction that should have scared me. Instead, it sent a fresh, lazy wave of heat through my spent limbs. He moved with that same unnerving deliberateness, standing and shedding his clothes with a few economical motions. The shirt first, revealing a lean, sculpted chest that was dusted with dark hair I wanted to run my fingers through. Then the slacks, and I got my first real look at him.
My breath hitched. He was magnificent. All hard lines and confident muscle, but it was the thick, heavy cock jutting out from a nest of dark curls that made my mouth go dry. And there, just below the head, was the source of that cool metal surprise—a sleek, silver barbell transversing the underside. A frenum piercing. My earlier jolt of curiosity returned tenfold, a sudden, sharp ache to touch it, to taste it, to feel the unique texture of it against my tongue.
