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But as I start to pull her up and away, she presses herself against me, sucks me deep, mutters a protest deep in her throat. Her words are unintelligible, but the rhythm of them send shock waves from one end of my

cock to the other. My heart slams against my chest and I thrust helplessly into her mouth.

The need to come is urgent, the desire to empty myself into her mouth so intense that it shakes me to my very core. But at the same time, I don’t want this to end. I want to stay here, in this moment, connected to this beautiful woman forever.

I thrust against her, watch as I slide in and out of her red, swollen lips. I do it again, long and slow and deep, then nearly come as she moans. I start to pull out—I’m so close that it won’t take much to send me over—but Aria just sucks me deeper. Runs her tongue up and down and around my dick in a rhythm that has my eyes crossing and my balls aching for relief. I’m on the brink now, orgasm threatening with every strangled breath I manage to pull into my lungs.

Just when I’m ready to say to hell with it and come, she pulls off.

“Fuck! What are you—” I pull on her hair, try to get her mouth back where it fucking belongs as agony rips through me, but she resists. Pulls back sharply against my hold.

I let go instantly, not sure if this is some game she’s playing or if she really wants me to stop. Either way, I hold my hands up and wait to see what she wants, what she’s asking for.

Aria pauses for a moment, licking her lips and watching me through her lashes. “Baby. Are you okay? What do you—”

My voice breaks as she leans forward again, runs her tongue up and down my length in whisper-soft strokes that nearly make me insane.

I jerk against her, every muscle in my body tightening as I lose all control over my body—and the situation. In these moments, I know that Aria is taking me as surely as I’m taking her, taking everything I have, everything I am. The knowledge nearly throws me over the edge once and for all, even as it chills me.

“I want to fuck you,” I tell her, and my voice is hoarse, needy, as desperate as it’s ever been. “I need to come. I need—”

She leans back again. Runs her tongue over her lips. Licks the pre-cum leaking from me with the tip of her tongue. “I want you to come,” she whispers, licking her lips once, twice, before leaning forward to run her mouth over me once again.

This time she licks over my balls, strokes a spot right behind them that has my eyes crossing and my knees going weak. And then she’s telling me to come, her voice low and breathless as she pulls me deep into her mouth.

It’s too much—her mouth on my cock, her body pressed against my legs, her words in my head as the tables turn abruptly. I try to pull away, try to regain control—and the upper hand—but it’s too late. Aria has me down her throat, her tongue stroking the underside of my cock even as she sucks until control is a distant memory.

And then she hums one final time and the ensuing vibrations send me right over the edge of a very high, very jagged cliff. With a shout that is half-curse, half-prayer, I give myself over to Aria—and to the most amazing orgasm of my life—as I empty myself down her throat in long, pulsing jets.

Chapter Five

Aria

Sebastian slumps forward, rests his head on the wall behind me. For long seconds, the only sound in the room is that of his ragged breathing as he sucks in air through his open mouth. He’s still shaking a little, his body trembling with aftershocks, and I turn my head, rest my cheek against his thigh so I can feel them better. And so that I can kiss him, softly, bring him down the same way he did to me.

This is the first time that I’ve seen him vulnerable when we’ve had sex. The first time I feel like I’ve opened him up the way he so easily does me. Though I enjoy being tied up, I wish my hands were free right now. I’d love to be able to hold him, to stroke and touch and pet him the way he does to me.

The way I so desperately think he needs right now.

I settle for brushing soft kisses against his thighs, his stomach. His cock.

After a minute, his hand comes to rest on my head, his fingers burrowing through my hair. It feels nice, this whole thing feels nice despite the fact that my body is still totally hyped up with the need to come.

But my brain is still ringing with everything he told me earlier, about Dylan and his father and Nico Valducci. Nico Valducci. There’s a name I never thought I’d have to hear again.

Just the thought of him turns my stomach, cools the need still jangling along my nerve endings. At least until Sebastian’s fingers tighten in my hair and yank my head up and back.

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at me out of eyes that are such a dark forest green that they look almost black.

“Sebastian?” I ask, watching his eyes widen at how hoarse I sound. I’m not sure what he expects when he just spent the last twenty minutes giving my tonsils a hell of a polishing. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer, just pulls me against his chest. I go—of course I go—partly because I want to and partly because my hands are still tied behind my back and I can’t do anything else.

He kisses me then, fast and hard and frantic. Lips and teeth and tongue meeting, stroking, melding with mine. Delving deep inside my mouth, sliding over my cheek, my tongue, the roof of my mouth. Like he wants to explore—wants to claim—every single part of me.

With any other guy I’d be running for the hills right now, but with Sebastian it feels right.

Feels right to let him claim me.

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