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I love the way his eyes crinkle at the edges when he gives me a rare smile. He doesn’t answer me but leans in closer and brushes my lips with his. I want to protest. I want to tell him not to kiss me.
I want to tell him if he does, I might fall in love with him.
But I don’t. I lift my face to his and welcome the kiss.
“If I were yours,” I ask, as I lay my head on his chest, vividly aware of the tingling sensation in my belly at our nearness, the way he smells like masculinity personified, the warmth of his hardened erection pressed up against my ass, “would aftercare include making love?”
It wouldn’t be just sex, but so much more.
“How do you know what aftercare is?”
“I told you. I’ve read the books.”
“Fuck,” he growls. “Yeah, baby. Aftercare would include sex.”
It’s all he needs. He frames my face between his hands and holds my gaze before he kisses me so fiercely, it takes my breath away. His tongue plunders my mouth, eliciting a moan as the tingling in my belly flares like a match to paper.
Somehow, he’s made me vulnerable and made my senses more acute. Everything feels more vivid, more intense, more beautiful. He moves his hands to my hair and weaves his fingers at my scalp before he tugs my head back, little eruptions of pain along my scalp where he pulls my hair. When I moan at this, he grabs a fistful and pulls harder. A spasm of pleasure rips through me. I didn’t know I could be so blissed-out by pain like this.
I reach my hands to his arms and drag them down the length of his muscled forearms as if to hold him back, but I’m holding on for dear life.
My world is brighter, vibrant and colorful, my senses sharpened and vivid while he takes me through a myriad of emotions.
My panties lay on the floor, forgotten. My red-hot ass scrapes against his crotch, but I somehow welcome the pleasure-pain of it all. He releases my mouth only so he can dip his head to my breasts. He tilts me back so my chest is bared to him, before he licks one of my hardened nipples. I squeal from the exquisite torture of pain and pleasure when he bites me before pulling my nipple between his teeth and suckling.
“You’re a fucking goddess,” he whispers, before he licks my nipple. “I’ve imagined what you’d look like naked and dominated.”
No way. He’s thought of me that way before?
“Have you imagined what it would be like to fuck me?” I ask him.
“Savannah,” he warns, shaking his head. “Don’t fucking tempt me.”
“What are you going to do, spank me? You already did that,” I say, leaning forward so I can kiss his collarbone. I love the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, telling me that I’m affecting him. “Why do you have to be all stoic?”
“You know why.”
I sigh and lean my head on his chest again. “Why don’t you trust yourself, Thayer? Why do you hold yourself back? Yeah, I’m confident Nicolette and Fabien wouldn’t approve, but last time I checked, I’m an adult. So it can’t be that.”
Instead of answering, he bends his mouth to my chest again and begins to lick and suckle my nipples. I forget what I was even thinking as my head drops backward and I surrender to the heated pulsing of my body under his command.
“Touch yourself,” he whispers. “Touch yourself while I hold you and play with these fucking perfect nipples. I want to look into your eyes when you climax.”
I’m still facing him, straddling him, while I obey. My hand shakes as I reach for my pussy while he stares into my eyes.
“Do exactly what I say,” he orders.
I nod. I can’t breathe as I hold my breath and start to stroke. My hips buck with the first wave of bliss, as he bends his mouth to my nipples again. I had no idea I was this turned on, but I’m already swollen and wet, so ready to come.
My need to climax builds as he licks my left nipple and squeezes the right. “That it, babygirl,” he whispers against my naked skin before he resumes suckling. I whimper and turn away, as if somehow that will help the growing need to come.
I cry out when I feel the bite of pain on my nipple. “Eyes on me,” he growls. “You heard what I said to do.”
With every ripple of pleasure, I feel so exposed I want to hide. I feel bared and open, but I want to please him. I want him to know I won’t disobey him, not again.
But I’m not his, I think to myself, while he tortures my nipples and my body teems with pleasure and need.
