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“Try this,” he said, lifting his dessert fork with his free hand.
He guided it to her mouth, and she looked him in the eye while she took the bite, groaning as the creamy cheesecake laced with fig leaf oil and almonds hit her tongue.
Lyon’s hand slid between her legs, stroking the petals of her sex, his eyes on her face.
“Which do you like best?” he asked, his voice heavy with meaning. He slipped his fingers into her pussy.
“I think I like this one.” Her voice had turned breathy, her mind fogging over with pleasure.
“Hmmm?” he murmured, pressing his thumb against her clit. “This one?”
“Hmm-mmm,” she said. “That one is… very nice.”
The white tablecloth wasn’t very long, not long enough to hide what he was doing if someone really looked. Then again, Lyon had never cared if someone might catch them. She sometimes thought he actually enjoyed the risk, and she had to admit, it was exciting for her too.
She dared a glance around the restaurant as he moved his fingers in and out of her pussy, circling her clit with his thumb the whole time, but everyone was busy with their meals and dinner companions.
It was a good thing, because an orgasm was building at the center of her body, a delicious buzzing taking over her limbs as she climbed toward it.
“Do you want more dessert?” Lyon asked.
“No,” she said, "I want to come.”
Now it was his turn to groan. “The lady knows what she wants.”
He picked up the pace with his fingers and increased the pressure on her clit. She moved her hips in time to his rhythm, trying not to be obvious when she was on the precipice of release.
Lyon leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I want you to come for me,” he said. “Then I’m going to take you home and eat your pussy until you scream.”
An explosion detonated at the center of her body, and she closed her eyes against her will, light bursting behind her eyelids as her channel tightened around his fingers, still stroking, his thumb still working her clit.
When she came back to awareness, she realized she’d dropped her spoon and placed her hands flat on the table. She half expected to see everyone staring at them, but no one was paying them any attention.
Lyon removed his hand, then licked her juices off two of his fingers as the waiter appeared at the edge of their table.
“Can I get you anything else?” the waiter asked.
Lyon looked at her innocently. “What do you think, darling? Would you like something else?”
Kira forced her voice steady. “Just the check please.”
She’d never been so eager to leave an amazing restaurant in her life.
18
He was humming for her, all the words he hadn’t been able to say gathering like a storm inside his body.
They took a cab back to the hotel in silence. He was afraid if he touched her it would all come spilling out, not just the raw physical need for her, but the shadows that now lurked in his bones, that woke him up at night in a cold sweat, biting back a scream.
By the time they got to the elevator, he was half mad with the need to bury himself inside her, to lose himself in her scent and the silk of her skin and the soft moans he knew would come from her mouth when he made her come.
His cock was rigid and painful, and he was glad it was so late. No one else was in the elevator to notice the bulge in his trousers, and he wasn’t sure he would have had the presence of mind to try and hide it.
He held her hand as they waited to reach the suite level, sexual tension thick between them. When the elevator door finally dinged their arrival, the doors glided smoothly open and he pulled her from the elevator car and down the hall.
Rurik stood solidly by the door to their suite, but he moved quickly aside when he saw them coming.
“Rurik,” Lyon said with a nod.
