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And just like that, all the tension seeps out of me, giving in to the pleasure he promised. Because he’s got me…
His mouth is back on me, his tongue inside as his finger slowly pushes further into my ass, and it burns. That old burn is back.The one I remember all too well, but Vas doesn’t give up; his other hand comes up to my breast, palming it and giving it a light squeeze. Just enough for my mind to relax, and suddenly, that burn is no longer there.
Instead, I feel good. It feels good, and I feel my muscles relax as he starts to draw his finger in and out of my ass slowly, and the feeling of all of it at the same time tips me over the edge. And I come just as hard as I did in the office. I see the moon, the stars, and the whole Milky Way.
My body is convulsing, thrashing against his mouth and the leather seat as the orgasm rolls through me in thick, heavy waves, but Vas doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let go of me until the very last drop of my climax drops, and he devours it.
I’m panting, my throat is sore because I’m pretty sure I was screaming like a maniac, and my poor driver heard way too much, but it was all worth it.
This. With Vassar. It’s worth it.
My hand relaxes, letting go of his hair, and he comes up from the floor. His lips and face are wet from me, and I swear my crazy pussy jolts in pleasure once again, waiting for the moment his cock graces her with his glorious presence.
Vassar is still standing on his knees with his face hovering over mine, an inch away. Both his hands are fisted on either side of me, bracing himself on the leather seat as his nose touches my cheek, drawing a single line up, and his eyes close in some sort of pleasure. As if touching me is what he needs. As if it’s what he craves and I watch his movements, mesmerized.
His lips ghost over mine, transferring a bit of my taste over to them, and I lick it all up while he watches me.
“We’re here,” he whispers, and that’s when I register that the car isn’t moving. The engine is off, but the windows are fogged up.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Oh.”
Vassar leans away from me, dropping back into his seat while he fixes his hair and pants. The large bulge in there clearly making things uncomfortable for him, and I lean in, placing my hand over him, but he catches it and sets it back into my own lap.
Confusion clouds my brain. This is not the first time he’s shied away from my touch. Not the first time he won’t let me see his body while we are in the zone past boss/employee. Not since he fucked my mouth. But surely, he would want me to take care of him.
But maybe he simply doesn’t wantmeto do it. His witch. Ursula. Cold, heartless vampire.
“You don’t want me to touch you?” I ask him, my shaky voice betraying me.
“It’s just sex, Kira,” he responds cooly, his face twisting up with something bitter, and I am starting to hate my own favorite phrase.
“As far as I am aware, touching you, fucking you, and sucking your cock is all part of just sex.”
He levels me with a new look, the one that scares me out of my body. The one that says there is nothing “just” about any of this for him.
“Kira. Touch is not ‘just’ for me.Your touch. The moment you do…” He closes his eyes for a second, takes a deep breath, and looks right back into that soulless soul of mine. “The moment you touch me, there will be no going back. It will be the moment I go diving into that deep ocean of yours, losing myself in you.” I swallow a thick lump. “But I can’t go there because I don’t think you will leap with me.”
Chapter thirty-two
Kira
Song: P!nk – TRUSTFALL
The dead morning silence is broken by tiny footsteps echoing through my apartment, and my head turns as Vassar’s daughter rounds the corner wearing her Little Mermaid pajamas in bare feet—thank goodness I had the good sense to turn on the tile warmers—with her caramel hair in two braids and that same blanket I saw her with the first time clutched to her chest with those little fingers.
Breathe, Kira. It’s just a child.Vassar or his sister will be up shortly, and they will take care of her.Relax. Calm down.
She comes over to the kitchen island where I am standing on the other side of the chairs, sipping my coffee, and without saying anything, I watch as she tries to climb up my bar stool. Those little hands gripping the blanket and now two sides of the seat as she throws her leg over and shimmies up on top.
The whole sight is so endearing I almost smile. Almost.
“Good morning, Miss Kira,” she greets me, her little feet dangling.
“Good morning. Your name is Victoria, right?” I have to ask because I ran away like a petrified idiot yesterday before we could be properly introduced.
“Yep.” She pops the P. “But everyone calls me Vee. And daddy likes to call me Angel, even though I told him like a hundred million five hundred two times that I am a mermaid.” She bulges her eyes at me. “That’s like a lot, a lot, right?”
