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Her hand falls to her clit, her other gripping me as she sinks me in deep.Fuck. I want to squeeze my eyes shut as the pleasure rips through me, but I can’t, not yet. I have to look like I still have this.
‘Deeper.’
She takes me in so far I hit the back of her throat, my entire length pulsing inside her slick warm mouth. I have to stand taller and release the chains as I fight to delay it. Groan my pleasure as my hips buck.
‘Is this what you want?’
She murmurs around me.
‘Is it?’ I say, plucking my cock from her sucking grasp.
‘Yes, sir!’
Sir. Sir. Sir.
It’s too much. All too much.
‘My naughty Little Kitten, that’s what you are.’
She takes me back in, her moan vibrating through me, her eyes watering as she gazes up at me, so obedient, so decadent.
‘Harder.’
Her cheeks hollow out with her suck, her glistening lips stretching thin as she accommodates my lust-thickened cock. Her body trembles as she works herself faster between her legs, her head bobbing faster too, her whimpers coming in quick succession, her breaths rasping through her nose.
‘That’s it, naughty Little Kitten, come with me, come with me!’
Argh!My cry fills the room as I throw my head back, my hips jerking as my release spurts. It’s fierce, hot, so mind-altering that it continues to shudder out of me again and again and I sense her rigidity, her movements turning stilted. I look down, see her entire body tensing, her eyes locking onto mine and then she rocks, her cry around my cock telling me she’s gone. She sucks back over me, taking the last of my release, and then her body arcs away as the pleasure-filled spasms take over her head to toe.
I reach forward, palm her neck, my fingers stroking through her hair as she rides the waves and I enjoy every second of it with her.
She’s a goddess. A true goddess sent to lure me out of my safe haven and turn my world on its axis.
But as I drop to my knees and press a kiss to her swollen lips I don’t care. I’m too drugged up on out-of-this-world sex to care.
And that’s all this is, just as she said. Great sex. It doesn’t have to mean more.
Only...it feels like more. So much more.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Olivia
ICAN’TTAKEmy eyes off him. It’s like I’m magnetically drawn to his very presence when my eyes should be on the football match that’s underway at ground level. Not up here, across the rows of private seating that accompany the corporate box, absorbing the sight of him as he chats to an ex-player he clearly knows well.
Or at least they were chatting; now their eyes are fixed on the semi-final as the few minutes of extra time play out and Dubois’ team are one nil up.
‘I can’t bear to look.’ Adele, Dubois’ wife, grimaces up at me but I barely have time to give her a sympathetic smile before her eyes go back to the pitch.
She’s a bundle of nervous energy, her perfectly manicured nails caught between her teeth, her petite frame thrumming with tension. And she still manages to look utterly stunning, with the warmest of brown eyes and a smile that lights up her entire face...when she’s not chewing on a nail.
‘I’m sure they’ve got it in the bag,’ I say, like I know what I’m talking about, when I don’t. At all. Football just isn’t my thing.
She grabs my hand, grips it with a tight nod, the act so familiar when we’ve only known each other a few hours. But then we bonded from the off, our shared passion and charity efforts something we could talk about for hours. I guess it was inevitable and Valentine must have anticipated that as he quickly left us to it, spending his time catching up with acquaintances that I get the sense are more like friends to him.
And it’s distracting, watching him so at ease, laughing, joking, in the same room but not with me. I’m too attuned to him, to his deep gravelly voice and that laugh...oh, that laugh.
I glance in his direction now, watch as he frowns down at the pitch. I can feel myself willing him to look at me, a brief second’s glance to know it’s not just me that can’t get the other out of their head. We’ve hardly seen each other since yesterday morning when he left my house after a breakfast of coffee and croissants. Nourishment that he had sourced from a local café before I’d even woken up.
