Page 17 of Fallen God

The thoughts died in my mind as he tugged his tight grey t–shirt over his head, giving me a clear and uninterrupted view of his smooth washboard abs. My mouth went dry. Dion had the body of a god, like one of the old masters had sculpted it out of beautiful marble.

“Believe it.” He chuckled and tossed the shirt at me. I caught it just before it hit me in the face. “And I’d do it again as well. I've waited too long for this to be interrupted by any of those fuckers.” The top button of his jeans popped, baring a tantalising triangle, complete with the most delectable trail of hairs I had ever seen.

My mouth flooded with moisture. Reclining back on my arms, I watched him as he stalked towards me. Dion was manly goodness and barely veiled aggression, and I had never wanted a man as much in my life. I was aching with it. Every part of me wanted him to devour me with his mouth on my pussy and his hands squeezing and teasing my tits just like he had done in Las Vegas. The memories of being pushed up against the hotel door assaulted my senses, and I moaned softly. My back arched as I remembered how it felt to have him pleasure me.

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I lowered my eyes.

“Lola, Lola, Lola.” His smokey voice, the one that had made him a superstar, only added to the sensations that were flooding me. I was so close already and he hadn’t done anything but unbutton his jeans. That was the effect he had on me.

“Did you just cum?” There was no judgement in his voice.

I blushed harder because, damn, I almost had. And it was still building. A throbbing heat that made me squirm. Embarrassed, I shook my head, not daring to look at him.

“Jesus.” He blew out a breath. “I love that.”

The bed on either side of me dipped as he leaned over me.

“Tell me what you were thinking about?” He didn't let me finish. “Me, hopefully.”

Mutely, I nodded. I couldn't look at him. Not yet, otherwise he would see how true his words were. Looking into his eyes would send me spinning over the edge. Especially if he kept talking to me like he was.

“Vegas.” He said, and it wasn't a question. Dion's lips drifted over my collarbone, moving my robe out of the way as he went. “You were remembering Vegas, and you almost came at the thought of what we did.” There was so much wonder in his voice that my eyes snapped open.

“I–”

“Love, that is so hot.” Still leaning over me, he moved his mouth over mine. Not quite touching, but hovering tantalisingly close. “Do you touch yourself thinking about that night?” The smallest of kisses brushed against my lips, and they parted with a sigh. “I do,” he admitted. “There's been nothing else I've thought about but the taste of you.” He gave me a slight nudge, and I fell backwards against the mattress. “The feel of you,” he continued, sipping at my lips. “I can't eat a peach without getting a hard on and that's all on you.”

I opened my mouth to ask what peaches had to do with anything and his lips came crashing down. His tongue swiped against mine hungrily.

“I want to watch you touch yourself, Lola,” he whispered between kisses that took my breath away. “Would you do that for me? Not now,” he added hurriedly. “Today I want to be the one who touches you, the one who worships you.” After sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, his groan mingled with my moan. “I want to be the one who worships you. You're a goddess, Lola, a damn goddess.”

“No.” I pulled my face away from him enough to be able to gaze into his deep blue eyes. His pupils were blown, his gorgeous lips swollen.

A tiny line appeared between his eyebrows. “No? What do you mean, no?”

Pushing slightly at his shoulders, I sat upright. My eyes never left his face. I could tell he was confused. He didn't know why I had suddenly put the brakes on.

“No, Dion. I want to worship you this time. I want to give you what you gave me in Vegas.” Wantonly, I reached for the zipper of his jeans. My eyes never left his face. It felt right to do this, but I had never been the take charge kind of girl. I wanted to make sure what I was doing was ok. “I want to taste you.” The zipper came down easily, and he wasn't wearing boxers or briefs. There was nothing between my lips and his skin. “I want to worship you like the god you are.” Tentatively, I pressed my lips against his skin, my eyes watching his reaction.

His eyes had narrowed when I had said no, but they flew open wide and startled as the meaning of my words seeped into his brain.

“Lola.” His hands came out to tangle in my hair as I peppered his skin with kisses. “You don't need to do that.”

“Want to…” I mumbled with a frustrated groan as my exploration was hindered by rough denim. Frustrated, I pushed his jeans down past his hips. Dion sprang free, hard and long, and for a second I was at a loss. I'd been with him before. But I'd never been so close to his cock. And like the rest of him, it was beautiful. I didn't even know how a cock could be beautiful, but his was.

“Baby.” His hands pulled my hair back and away from my face, and I could feel his eyes studying me, just like I was studying him. He was waiting for me to make a move, to do something or give him some hint so he could take charge. “If you…oh God.” He swore as I licked the length of him, my tongue playing over the veins that throbbed against me. Smiling to myself, I did it again. Gripping the base of him in my fist, I squeezed.

A trembling began in his thighs, but Dion kept completely still as I explored every inch of his length with my tongue. He was silky smooth, and I loved the effect I was having on him, but I needed more.

My eyes lifted to meet his, and I swirled my tongue around the tip, wetting it before opening my mouth and taking him into my mouth for the first time. He tasted like pure man.

“Fuck!” he hissed, his fingers scraping against my scalp.

Emboldened, I did it again, swirling my tongue around him as I took him as far into my mouth as I could. Over and over again, I made the same action because it was amazing to watch the changes wash over his face. Dion was a rock god who had been with countless women, but with his cock in my mouth, he looked almost vulnerable. An excited blend of pure need and something else. But he didn't say a word. Dion made no sound to tell me whether he was enjoying himself or not. All I had to go on was the look of rapture on his face and the heavy, panting rise and fall of his chest above me. Still, I was pretty sure he was enjoying it. He didn't do anything to tell me otherwise.

“Am I…” I hated asking, hated being the needy girl who needed constant reassurance, but I couldn't help myself.

His grip on my head tightened, pulling me back over him. “God, yes, Lola. Don't stop. Don't ever st–” A sound from within the apartment silenced him, catching us both by surprise. Dion froze. “Shit.”

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