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“You come prepared,” he rasped, sounding urgent—almost angry—and pocketed the foil square.
Perversely, her nipples tightened even more, which activated some part of her nervous system with a direct connection to all parts south of her navel. A deeper, more intense tightness coiled between her legs. Her thighs quivered. She dropped her hips closer to his lap and connected with the rock-hard bulge testing the limits of his button fly. Heat shot straight to the point of contact. She had to get herself under control if she expected to keep the upper hand. “I’m not sure you meant that as a compliment.”
“It’s a fact,” he growled, but the words trailed off in a groan when she ground her crotch against his. “Christ almighty.” He clapped one big hand over her butt and brought the other up to lift his ski mask.
Oh shit. Not yet. “Don’t!” she said quickly. “Leave the mask on.”
“I plan to. I just need…” In lieu of an explanation, he shoved the mask up above his mouth and grazed his lips over an extremely grateful nipple. She cupped her breast and held it for him, fighting back a moan. He spread his hand across the center of her back and brought her even closer, but instead of teasing her with his tongue, as she’d expected, he covered her with his entire mouth and used bone-dissolving suction to draw her in deep.
This time there was no muffling the moan. The needy sound poured from her throat and filled the small room. Then his teeth and tongue joined the fray. She arched closer, letting him devour her, while her hips rocked back and forth, back and forth, in a steady rhythm she couldn’t have stopped if her life depended on it.
Apparently satisfied she wasn’t going anywhere, he moved the hand at her back around to the front, switched his mouth to the other breast, and cupped the one he’d just set free. Not gently, but not too rough, because he knew exactly where she drew the line and he hit it, perfectly. Sweet Jesus did he hit it.
“Oh, God, that’s good,” she babbled, running her hands over his shoulders, his chest, everywhere within her reach. The straps of her dress and lingerie hindered her, so she shrugged her arms free and pushed the clothes down around her waist. He kept busy alternately squeezing and soothing her damp, swollen breast while working the other to the same agonizing state. Every kiss, every tweak, every carefully controlled bite sent a bolt of heat straight to her core. The pressure built to a critical mass. If she didn’t stop him soon, she’d go off like a cherry bomb, right there on his lap, which was not her plan. She mustered up her willpower and pulled away.
He lowered his mask back into place and then looked up at her. She wished she could see his expression, but the room wasn’t exactly lit for gazing intimately into the c
lient’s eyes. The ski mask didn’t help either.
“Done already, Angel?”
There it was—the note of challenge again. Her thighs clenched and she held back a thrilled little shiver. “I’m just getting started.” She knelt between his parted legs and undid the first button of his jeans.
His hand covered hers and for a minute, she thought he intended to stop her. Time to issue a challenge of her own. “No rules, remember? No holds barred? You handle whatever I throw at you.” She popped the next button. The smooth, wide head of his dick surged out the top of his black boxer briefs. Her fingers shook a little as she hurriedly undid the last three buttons and shoved his shorts out of the way. Then she held on to his thighs for balance and sat back on her heels to drink in the sight of him.
“I can handle it,” he said quietly. “Question is, can you?”
Was he playing with her mind, using reverse psychology, or did he honestly believe he still had her in the dark? The answer didn’t matter. She’d make him plead, either way.
She licked her lips, suddenly hungry for the taste of him, anxious to feel the hard, hot length of him filling her mouth, straining her jaw as she took him in as far as she possibly could. An answering hunger echoed between her legs at the thought of him stretching her, filling her, plunging deep until she couldn’t feel anything, think of anything, except his body moving inside her.
Her mind screamed hurry as she leaned in, but her languorous body preferred slow motion and wouldn’t obey. His ragged curse reached her ears a few seconds after she swirled her tongue over the tip of his glorious cock. She licked her way down, down, down his shaft, provoking a few more of the uncensored sounds, and then slowly worked her way back up. His fingers dove into her hair, holding her head down and her lips against him, as if he worried she might abandon the job before she’d even really gotten started. She smiled and took him into her mouth.
“Christ, I’ve missed yo…a good blow job.”
She would have smiled if her lips weren’t otherwise occupied. Whoops, Ian, almost blew it, didn’t you? The fingers in her hair tightened. He didn’t use the hold to take control of the depth or pace of the proceedings, but she could tell he wanted to. So it surprised her when he suddenly let go. What the…?
He leaned over her, more or less pinning her head between his lap and his torso, and lifted the hem of her skirt. He tucked it up into the back of her dress. When he had her bare from the waist down, save for the thong, he straightened and groaned, which she guessed might have been in combined appreciation for the view he’d just arranged for himself in the mirror behind her and the feel of his entire dick cradled securely in her mouth. She kept her lips tight, hollowing her cheeks to suck him as hard as she could. Because she knew she had an audience, she flexed her glutes at the same time.
“You’re spectacular,” he muttered as she reversed course at a leisurely pace.
When she reached the top, she looked up at him, ready to try her hand at some other head games. “Did you like that, nice and slow and steady? Or do you want it faster and deeper?” She knew exactly how he wanted it.
“Jesus. Faster and deeper.”
“Please,” she prompted.
“Please,” he managed through a clenched jaw. “Faster. Deeper. Please.”
The “please” sent a burst of triumph through her. In reward, she gave him faster and deeper. He cupped the back of her head and simply rested his hand there, unbelievably gentle, considering the violence of the breaths exploding from his lungs.
She didn’t want gentle tonight. She wanted him thrusting and pumping and so desperate to come that he lost all control. So she teased him, ruthlessly, sliding her mouth up his length to the very tip and letting him hang there, just barely captured between her lips. Then she waited.
He cursed. She smiled, and he slipped another precious millimeter.
“I won’t do it,” he ground out. “I don’t…fuck—” He grabbed the seat with both hands, lifted his hips, and chased after her retreating mouth. She repaid his efforts by taking him in again, all the way, and giving him a good hard suck as she made her journey back up.
It took a few more round-trips, but finally she had him perched at edge of the chair. She reached into his bunched-down shorts and found the boys. Continuing to torture his shaft with her mouth, she jostled and squeezed his balls. Conflicting, almost inarticulate words reached her ears.
