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He ripped out of the buttons along his cuffs and tossed his shirt on the wide tiles. He hauled her up, wrapping her long legs around his hips as he swung around and back into the villa.
A few lights had been lit inside thanks to Anders, but he was absent. Thank fuck, because Simon wasn’t sure he would have cared if the guy was standing in the middle of the room.
He crossed the huge space, only one thing in mind.
The bed.
And her sprawled out on it.
He gripped her ass as he crawled over it and dumped her into the center.
One of her hands was in his hair and the other on his back, scoring it with her nails. She was in full-on tigress mode and he had to catch up to her, for fuck’s sake. But his mouth was just fine. And he would use it.
With the same precision she’d shown on him.
The thud of her soft boots and his shoes were the only sounds in the room beyond their groans and muttered grunts of words that didn’t make sense.
He inched down the bed and rolled up the short shirt she was wearing. Fucking layers.
Always so layered up in black.
Normally, he loved it. Enjoyed opening her up like his own personal present.
Right now, everything was in the way.
He needed her naked and his mouth on her soaked slit. Because he knew she was. Could feel it against his belly and chest as he moved lower. He didn’t even have the patience to get her out of the tights the proper way.
He shoved his finger through one of the seams and ripped it wide open, dragging her panties to the side so he could finally get her taste on his tongue.
She writhed under him and he lifted her to his mouth.
She didn’t try to escape the pleasure. Sometimes he had to ease her into it, but not tonight. She headed straight for it and it made him run to keep up with her.
And he chased that pleasure. Even when she broke under him the first time, he didn’t relent. He demanded more and when she curled up into a seated position, her arms over his back and her nails leaving a bloody trail in their wake—he didn’t stop.
He never stopped.
Her thighs quivered against his ears and he was pretty sure he was a step away from blacking out from oxygen deprivation, but he didn’t stop.
His name was a hoarse scream before he finally slowed the stroke of his tongue around her clit. The soothing touch as much of a balm to his own overwrought system.
He used his teeth to drag down the tattered remains of her tights. He glanced up at her. “Remember the last time I ripped your tights, Violin Girl?”
Margo had her hands in her hair and her chest was rising and falling as her thighs fell open. “I’ve lost count of the tights you’ve ripped.”
He nipped her inner thigh. “That’s true. How about the first time?”
A flush raced up her chest and neck. “Oh.”
He laughed and flipped her over. “Oh.” He kissed his way up her thighs to her lush ass and bit one cheek. “That chair. This ass.” He dragged his tongue down the crease to her swollen slit. He knelt behind her and gripped her hips so he could get her up on her knees. He lifted her and deposited her at the head of the bed. “This isn’t exactly the sturdy chair from the studio, but I think you can get the gist.” He stripped her out of her shirt and bra. “Hang onto that fucking headboard.”
She threw a glance over her shoulder. “Enough with the orders and just fuck me.”
His dick was definitely on board with that idea. He nudged her knees open wider and reached around her to grip the headboard for purchase. “As you wish.” With his other hand, he lined up his dick with her perfect pussy and slammed home.
He dropped his forehead against her shoulder for a second at the sheer bliss of her tight body clasping his. He didn’t realize just how worked up he’d gotten by going down on her. Tunnel vision was definitely a thing.
He snapped hips hips forward again and his goddamn molars clicked together as he powered into her. She arched away from the huge, sturdy headboard. Her dark chocolate hair teased his chest and flowed over his shoulders as he closed the gap between them.
