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A whimper of need slips past my lips and that’s all the confirmation he needs as he bends to lift me up and into his arms. Bastian walks to the couch, taking a seat, making sure to keep me in his lap.
When he captures my lips again, it’s nothing like the kiss only moments ago. This one is like he’s savoring me. Like he’s committing my lips to memory.
The thought is wiped from my mind when his hands slide under the hem of my dress, almost painfully grabbing onto my ass.
His labored breathing matches mine as he rests his forehead against mine, breaking the kiss. “Let’s go back to my place. I don’t have any condoms here.”
“You know, for a man who was having a lot of sex, you sure are ill-prepared whenever we’re out.”
He chuckles and I think it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. “I really am. I’ll do better, I promise, princess.”
Bastian runs his thumb down the column of my throat. Such a simple touch and yet it has me shifting my hips and I try to ease the ache between my legs.
Neither of us speaks. The only sound filling the room comes from the music seeping through the walls.
His brow quirks when I don’t make a move, and I find myself uttering, “I don’t want anything between us anymore.”
He looks into my eyes, not saying a word until I can’t take the intensity of his stare anymore and look away.
“Are you sure?”
With a nod of my head as I turn to face him again, I say, “I’m sure.”
“I should ask you this when we’re both sober. In fact, we should go back to my place and get a good night's sleep then discuss this in the morning.”
“I need you now, too. Make me feel good…” I run a hand down the front of his sweater, over the hard ridges of his abs until I reach the buckle of his belt. “Please.”
He studies me for a moment and I can see the war taking place inside of himself as he contemplates if it’s the right thing.
“Or are you…” My gaze drops to the obviously hard bulge in his hands before lifting to him again. “You know, broken?” I ask.
He bucks his hips up, and I moan at the contact. “Does it fucking feel broken, princess?”
God, no, it doesn’t feel fucking broken.
Composing myself, I shift in his lap again, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. “Then use is, Bastian.”
He lifts a hand and pushes a strand of hair away from my face as I lean back. “I just don’t want you to regret this.”
I see the hesitation in his eyes, as if he’s afraid of what it means for me to do this with him, but my response is almost immediate because I wouldn’t ever regret him. “I won’t, I promise.”
We both move at the same time, grappling onto one another, our mouths fused as if we’ve been starved. I shouldn't be feeling like this about him, but he means something to me.
That’s the truth.
I feel grounded when I’m in his arms. When he’s devouring me like he needs me to breathe.
I unzip his jeans, pulling his hard cock free from its confines. He hisses against my lips as I stroke his length.
“Princess, if you want me to last you’re going to have to stop that.”
Unable to resist his warm, solid length, I stroke him one final time, moving my hands to rest on his stomach. He pushes the hem of my dress to my waist before he rips my G-string from me. I hiss at the sting but his fingers rubbing over my sensitive clit, dipping into my dripping pussy, soon has me forgetting the pain. My moans are loud as he sinks his thick finger into me.
“Show me your ring.”
What?
Wait, I need to use my words.“What?”
