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Hours after we finished eating and devoured my dessert, we were lying by the fire, sharing a glass of wine, the moment building between us.
The one where Dominick wasn’t going to wait another second to have me.
There were blankets beneath us that he’d arranged, and the gas fireplace released heat and beauty from behind the glass. The back side of his hand, the part that wasn’t covered in gym calluses, rubbed over my bare shoulder. There was a quick graze of his lips along my collarbone.
He knew how to make me feel my best.
How to turn me on.
How to work me up to the point where I was leaning into his touch for more.
My hands ached for the feel of him, so I pulled at the thick metal of his belt buckle, loosening the notch. I unbuttoned his jeans and lowered his zipper, reaching into his boxer briefs.
That thick, long, perfect cock was waiting for me.
“Oh God, yes,” I breathed, wrapping my fingers around it.
When I rose to the top of his shaft and dropped to his base, the same sound came from him.
“I can’t get enough of you,” I admitted.
I was already wet.
I had been since I’d felt his lips across the top of my back, minutes before he kissed my shoulder.
“Kendall …” he exhaled over my neck, chills bursting through me. “I’m all yours.”
Those were the sexiest words I’d ever heard.
Dominick Dalton was mine.
Every part of him.
Every inch.
And I was going to count each one as it passed through my lips.
I got onto my knees and surrounded his tip, his crown dominating the top of my mouth.
“Oh fuck,” he hissed.
I circled my tongue around the edge of his dick and across the center.
His moans were deep and guttural as his hand held my hair, urging me up and down as though I was going to stop.
But I was just getting started.
“Fuck yes, baby.”
I loved those noises.
That I could make him feel good.
That his hips were rocking forward for more of my suction.
Aside from him touching me, those were the things that made me wetter.
I placed my hand at his base, covering that section while I dived over the top. I tightened my grip on him, meeting in the center, sucking in my cheeks to give him the feeling of a vacuum, swirling my tongue at the same time.
His thickness was filling, consuming me.
And with each plunge, I couldn’t stop thinking about what this was going to feel like when it was inside of me. That deep, overwhelming satisfaction I could only get from his dick. It was that need, that burning desire, that caused my speed to increase.
He twisted my hair around his wrist, grunting, “You’re going to make me fucking come.”
That sounded like a challenge.
But I knew he wasn’t going to let me bring him there because I was positive he had much more planned for tonight. And seconds later, I learned I was right when he lifted me in the air and set me on my back, hovering over me while he stripped off my clothes.
The only thing that remained on my skin was the heat from the fire and his scorching gaze.
“I’m going to fucking devour you.”
I shivered.
From the anticipation.
From the look of hunger on his face.
From his feral lips as they moved down my chest, surrounding my nipple, repeatedly tugging it with his teeth. Each pull lifted me higher, my back arching before I landed.
“Oh God.”
Suddenly, he was moving lower. My stomach the next target, pecking around my belly button and across to each hip, pausing at the base of me.
His nose wedged between my lips.
“Fuck me.” He breathed in more of me. “I can never get enough of that scent.”
He didn’t move. He just replicated the same action.
In and out.
As though I were his oxygen.
And then I was suddenly on my knees, straddling his face, his mouth beneath my pussy.
“Ohhh.” I shook.
