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My smile was wicked. “You’ll have to find out, won’t you?”

A growl escaped him as he moved back so he could grab the hem of my skirt and drag it up to my hips. His nostrils flared again when he saw I wasn’t wearing panties, and when his gaze caught on the belt around my waist, that shaped my slim curves, and kept the silk fripperies from tumbling down, I felt the disturbance in the air—like a thunderstorm was rumbling overhead.

He was a constant surprise, so I should have expected him not to react how I thought he would, but when he dropped to his knees and urged my thighs apart, a shocked breath escaped me even as I complied with his wishes.

One hand went to my calf, and he encouraged me to prop my heel on his shoulder, which gave him more room as he went to work on me. His lips unerringly sought my clit, and I didn’t bother staring down at him, just watched him in the mirrors as he ate me out like he hadn’t just eaten.

Like he was starving.

And God, so was I.

In barely no time at all, I went from being as dry as a bone to slick with arousal.

I hadn’t a clue what it was about him, just knew that he could get me this hot with a glance.

My body was accustomed to being used for sex, but I’d never been an active part of the event. My mind skipped out on things as if it was self-preservation. I was used to being fucked, but fucking in return was a treat.

While I’d dressed with respectability in mind, I’d also picked clothes I knew would turn him on, never expecting that he’d turn the cards onme.

He tongue-fucked me, thrusting into my wet pussy, groaning as he did so. Plying my clit with the tip before sucking down on it, he teased me and tormented me, giving me what I needed, making me revel in his caresses as much as I looked forward to what was coming.

In no time at all, he’d trained me to expect orgasms. Lots of them. So many that it was like Christmas morning every time I knew sex was on the horizon.

And why shouldn’t it be that way?

Just because I’d been treated like a cum dumpster before, didn’t mean I couldn’t be cherished and appreciated by someone else where sex was concerned.

My head rolled back against the glass as he ate me out, savoring me like a fine wine, and I let him, unashamed to have him enjoy me as an appetizer for the main course.

One of my hands slipped through the short locks of his hair, and I tugged at it, feeling the silk sliding not only against the palms of my hands but my thighs too.

When the doors pinged, my heart leaped as I half expected someone to be standing there, waiting on the other side, but of course, this was a private elevator and the only thing that happened was it opened onto the front hall of his apartment.

My stupid body didn’t put two and two together, though, and I cried out, hoarse and husky as the climax powered through me like a champion.

Back arching, hips pumping, I rode his mouth as I eked out every last morsel of pleasure, adrenaline making it surge through my veins like the very purest of drugs. A sharp cry burst from my parted lips, and I clenched my eyes closed. Lifting an arm, I tucked my face into the nook of my elbow, needing to hide from how devastating the orgasm was, needing to hide from what this man, of all men, could do to me.

It was probably luck that he seemed to fit into me like a key to a lock, but it was bewildering too.

Knees buckling as they gave out under my weight, I almost fell but he was there, ready to catch me. His lips scented of me as he raised my arm, pressing it against the glass, not letting me hide, not letting me do anything other than face him as our mouths brushed together, and he ate at me much like he had moments earlier.

I shuddered as his fingers found my core once more, and he played with me there, continuing to drive me higher and higher, until I knew I could come again. So fast. Just like that.

A shriek escaped me as I tore my lips from his and I burrowed my face in his throat as I rode his hand. Mewls and whimpers tangled together in my throat as I tried to fight it, tried to fight the ecstasy but it wasn’t possible. It was just...inevitable.

I heard the sounds of a zipper opening, that unmistakable noise of the tines unfastening, and I knew what that meant and I embraced it.

His hand moved away, slick fingers trailing over my thighs as he hefted me up, lifting me against the glass. I raised my arms to hook around his neck, just in time for him to press the tip of his dick against my slickness.

My eyes clenched closed again as the ricocheting delight of his thickness filling me took control of my senses. I screamed when gravity did the rest, impaling me on his shaft, and he let me hover there, my weight doing the work for him as I was forced to deal with just how big he was, how he filled me to perfection.

Arms tightening around his neck, I clung to him, crawling up him almost to ease some of the pressure, but as I did so, he grunted, and I knew why.

It was hard work—God, was it—but I started to rock against him. Crossing my feet at the ankles and digging them into his ass, I tightened my thighs and pulled upward. Each time I did that, he grunted into my ear, and he planted his hands against the mirrors, so that everything was on me.

Every time my muscles gave way, I sank down onto him, so heavily a keening cry was wrung from me, but whenever I almost reached his tip, a high whine escaped me because I felt so empty.

My pussy clung to him throughout, and when he burrowed his face in my throat and bit down, hard, enough to bruise, to mark, I screamed again, unable to stop myself, unable to stop the barrage of pleasure that filled me to the brim.

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