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He brings them to his mouth, licks off my taste, then turns me to my side so we’re face-to-face. “Say it.”
“Make me come till I can’t take it.”
My reward is a hot kiss. Fingers between my thighs. A relentless mouth questing across my neck, and a tense, tantalizing pulse in my core.
He rubs a mesmerizing circle on my clit till I’m arching, gasping, then clawing at the sheets.
“Give it to me,” he growls, but I’m already there, coming on his hand.
Before I can even catch my breath, he’s grabbed the gift bag and returned to the bed. After he yanks off my panties, he reaches into the bag, then wields a toy, a small peach-colored vibrator, with a tiny hole in it.
He turns it on, grazes it over my clit, and I shout. “God. Yes. What is that?”
“I went shopping for you this evening. When in Paris,” he says, then rubs the toy over my clit where it pulses and vibrates with air.
“This is crazy,” I say, moaning.
He looks mad, wild with pleasure as he kneels between my legs, demanding, “Spread them wider. Need to see your pretty pussy.”
I let my legs fall open, wanton and shameless under his determined hands. The man bought a vibrator for me before dinner. This is next level sex. This is why older men rock. No one will ever compare after this kind of relentless attention. This devotion to my pleasure and…oh, god.
He’s just turned up the speed, and I’m one long nerve, fraying with desire. “I’m close,” I pant.
“Good. Then follow my rules, Jules,” he says, going a little faster, then faster still, till my mind is spinning and my body is almost tipping over.
“Rules,” I murmur, barely focusing as bliss comes into view.
“Yes. This rule. Don’t fucking come.” In a cruel heartbeat, he turns it off, leaving me aching.
“Asshole,” I mutter. I was on the edge.
He laughs as he flips me over so I’m on my stomach, naked with only shoes on.
“Jerk,” I grumble.
But then he straddles me and pushes my hair to the side, leaning down to dust a kiss over my neck.
Oh. That’s nice. So nice.
My shoulders now.
His lips travel down my back, reverently kissing me, adoring my skin as he goes. His caresses light me up. I ignite again, hot and bothered and so turned on as he journeys down to the top of my ass.
He kisses one cheek. All over.
I squirm, feeling out of control and wanting less and less control. He moves to the other cheek, layering kisses all over my ass, then sliding his tongue along the crease.
I tense for a second. Is he going to gothere? Do I want him to? I don’t know, but he stops and grabs me roughly, manhandling me in the way he’s learned I like.
He hauls me up to my knees. “Ass up. Keep your arms stretched out.”
“I will. I am,” I say, though it feels like a plea as I give in to his every demand to please me.
Then, he reaches into the bag once more, comes around the top of the bed, and dangles a long swatch of black silk in front of me. “My rules. Your blindfold.”
He waits, asking for permission. “Yes,” I say, granting it.
“Good.” In seconds, everything’s dark and black and silky as he ties the fabric around my head. “Okay?”
