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He waits for me to ease into the soft rug, to relax before his hands caress up and down my legs, up and down, a promise of every place his hands will soon travel in that touch. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he declares, his voice absolute, his thumb sliding into the slick heat of my sex. “So wet,” he says. “So ready for my tongue.”
My nipples tighten with the words and I bite my lip. No one has ever talked to me this way. No one has ever lit up my body so completely. He slides down lower, his breath a hot tickle on my clit. “You do want me to lick you, don’t you?”
I’m already melting for him, melting as I’ve never melted for a man when his mouth is suddenly closer, his breath teasing my clit, his fingers sliding inside me, driving me wild while his gaze finds my gaze. I gasp and he orders, “Say it. Say you want my tongue on your—”
“Kace,” I whisper urgently before he can say the word, my lashes lowering, my hips lifting into his touch.
But already he’s denied me that touch.
His fingers are gone, no longer inside me, but my legs are over his shoulders and his mouth is right where I want it. He licks my clit, and I gasp. I’ve barely recovered when the warmth of his mouth is around me. Already, I’m spiraling inside the pleasure, so close to orgasm, so very close. I want to fight it. I want to slow it down, but I can’t. His tongue is everywhere I need it. His hand is on my breast, my belly, my hip. He licks me and licks me and I can’t breathe with the demands of my body for release. His fingers slide inside me again and I’m over the edge. I gasp and then tense before my body spams around his fingers. I tremble and quake and then it’s over. My body that had been tense and arched into him, collapses onto the floor. He eases my legs down and then he’s over me, hand on my head. “You were always going to be on my tongue. We both knew it.” And then his tongue is in my mouth, the taste of me on his lips. And when he tears his mouth from mine he says, “You, woman,” he says, “are trouble.”
“I keep telling you that,” I whisper, but he’s moving, his big perfect body no longer over mine.
I gasp in shock as he rolls me to my belly and pulls me to my knees. He’s behind me, his hand on my backside, and when I think he might actually spank me, his palm caresses upward, a path to the center of my shoulder blades, where it rests. He’s beside me now, and leans in close, his mouth at my ear. “Stay just like that. Don’t move.”
“Kace,” I whisper, and I’m not sure if it’s a plea or a demand.
“I will never hurt you. Ever. It’s all about pleasure and escape, about anticipation.” His hand slides down my spine and over my backside before returning to my shoulders. “And you look fucking beautiful. Wait for me.”
I’m exposed, my backside in the air, my weight on my elbows, and my heart is thundering, but I want what this man offers me. I want the escape. I want all of what he offers me. “Yes.”
He cups my breasts and then removes his hand from between my shoulder blades, replacing it with his mouth. His lips linger there for long moments, and then he’s gone, his touch no longer warming me, the shift in the air telling me that he is now standing.
Now, I’m vulnerable again, exposed, and I can feel the shift of him standing up. I can feel the heat of his stare. I’m reminded of his warnings of himself, but I do not feel fear. I’m aroused. I am ridiculously aroused if not nervous. Seconds tick by and the rip of plastic tells me he’s putting on a condom, but still, he does not return. More seconds tick by and I can’t take it. I can’t stay here like this and I rotate to find him towering over me, his cock thick and hard, jutting forward.
“You, woman,” he says, coming down on top of me and taking me back down to the floor, “do not follow orders well.” His cock settles thickly between my legs, his big body lying heavily on mine.
“Why would I want to take orders?”
“Hmmm,” he says, his lips brushing over mine. “Pleasure, baby, remember? Tell me you didn’t want me every second you waited for me.”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts, Aria. When it’s done right, in bed, of course, the exchange of power is an escape.”
“For you or me?”
“Both of us or there is no purpose,” he says, his fingers teasing my nipples, my lashes lowering and lifting as he adds, “One day maybe you will allow me to show you that.”
