Page 44 of Haunted Love


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I let my words trail off. I don’t owe him any explanations about what I intend to do or where I’m going, so I simply walk away, clutching my Cosmo between my fingers. I take a few desperate sips, unsure why the nerves have decided to make another appearance. I know exactly what’s going to go down in there. I know he’s not going to hurt me and that he’s going to make me feel comfortable. I have nothing to worry about, and yet . . . the bundle of nerves in the pit of my stomach continues to grow.

In the short walk from the bar to the door of the private room, my drink almost disappears, and when I finally reach it, I find myself pausing. I take a calming breath, and as the excitement builds within me, I realize it wasn’t nerves at all. It was raw anticipation.

I’ve been waiting for this moment since the second he finished with me last week. I’ve thought about it nonstop, and I’ve pictured just how good it would be until nothing else could do the job, but what if last week was a fluke? What if he was on a roll and was doing everything right and tonight doesn’t live up to my expectations? I’ll be crushed. But what do I have to lose? There’s a man standing in this room who’s willing to do whatever it takes to make me see stars, and I’d be a fool to walk away now.

Scrounging up every last shred of courage, I step over the threshold to the private room, and the moment I do, the anticipation shifts into an electrifying buzz that sets my body on fire.

Despite the darkness that surrounds me, I sense him in the room. “Close the door, Little Birdy.”

Hooooly fuck.

Just the sound of those words makes something melt within me. Shivers sail down my spine, and without a second of hesitation, I close the door behind me, then remembering the small table by the entrance, I finish off the last few drops of my Cosmo and place the glass down.

“Come to me.”

Just like last time, the music is so loud that it’s nearly impossible to hear his smooth tone over the sound, but every word he speaks is as though it’s directed right into my soul. I drift toward the center of the room, taking my time. I don’t see him, but I can feel him here. The air between our bodies crackles with desire and need, and the tension builds with each step I take toward his voice.

I come to a stop when I smell the familiar scent of his cologne, and not a moment later, I feel his hand at my waist. He pulls me in hard, spinning me at the same time until my back is pressed against his bare chest. A gasp tears from my throat, and when his fingers brush across my jaw and drop to my chest, I have to remind myself how to breathe.

“What are you doing here, Birdy? What do you need?”

I swallow hard, not really sure what I need, just as long as he’s the one giving it to me, then I don’t really care. “The women in this club, they come here to explore their kinks, to push their boundaries and try things they maybe wouldn’t be brave enough to try somewhere else. But you . . .” I pant, needing to pause as I try to figure out what I’m saying. “Since last week, you have become my kink. Nothing has been able to compare to the way you touched me, and now . . . I don’t even know what I need from you, just that I need it to be you.”

A deep growl of approval rumbles through his chest as his hand dips low between my thighs. He cups my pussy through my jeans and grinds the heel of his palm against my clit, making my hips jolt as though being struck by lightning. “You need me to fill you?” he questions. “To stretch that sweet little cunt to its limits?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

“To fuck you,” he continues, “hard and deep until your legs start to shake?”

I suck in a breath as his other hand skims over my trembling body. “Yes. I need you to touch me. Ruin me.”

Without warning, his hand twines into the back of my hair, and he pulls my head to the side as his hungry lips come down on my neck. His tongue roams across the sensitive skin as my knees immediately try to give out beneath me.

I groan, gripping his strong forearm and digging my nails into his skin. “Oh, God,” I moan, my eyes rolling as he continues to grind his palm against my pussy. “I need to feel you inside me.”

“Patience, Sweet Bird.”

I’m losing my fucking mind, my pussy is already soaking with need, and when his hand releases my hair and skims down my body to the hem of my silk top, the anticipation intensifies. He pulls the dainty fabric over my head and drops it to the ground before reaching for my bra. He effortlessly unclips it with barely a flick of his fingers, and by the time that hits the ground, his hands are already at the waistband of my jeans, quickly working the button.

My hands start to roam, reaching up behind me and hooking my hand around the back of his neck as he works his lips across the base of my throat. I’ve never felt so alive, and he’s barely touched me yet.

He pushes my jeans down, taking my thong with them, and the second I kick them off my feet, he whips me back around and grabs me by the ass. I’m lifted into his strong arms, and my legs hook around his waist, holding on for dear life as my body molds to his.

The sweet torture of his tongue on my neck doesn’t stop as he strides across the room. He places me on the edge of something soft. It’s too wide to be a couch, and there’s no backrest, but it’s definitely not a bed. Either way, it’s deliciously comfortable as my body sinks into it.

He stands between my legs, his crotch right at the perfect height if he wanted to fuck me right here and now, only something tells me that he’s not quite ready for that yet. His hands grip my thighs, his thumbs rolling over my smooth skin as he pulls them up so that my feet rest against the cushion, keeping them spread wide.

“Do you smell the sweet scent of your arousal?” he rumbles, bracing his knee between my legs and leaning toward me, then without warning, he closes his mouth over the sharp peak of my nipple, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. “You’re addictive.”

I arch my back off the cushion, trying to offer more of myself to him, but I’m at his mercy and can only take as much as he’s giving.

His tongue continues working over my nipple when I feel his hand slide down the inside of my thigh, and my breath catches, my body jolting as he reaches my drenched core. Hunger pulses through my body, and desperation keeps me on edge as he slowly pushes two thick fingers deep inside me, taking me inch by inch.

My body squirms beneath him, but he doesn’t relent, doing it again and again, curling his fingers inside me before pulling them free and rolling them straight over my clit. I gasp, already trembling as my hips jolt against the cushion. He does it again, this time adding more pressure as his fingers rub smaller, tighter circles. It’s everything.

His other hand roams across my waist, exploring my skin, and every brush of his fingers sets me on fire. It’s different from last week. That was crazed desperation, but there’s something so sensual about this. It’s as though he’s committing every inch of me to memory, and I fucking love it.

Not wanting to waste an opportunity, my hands explore, touching every inch of him. Grazing my nails across his chest, his abs, and his strong arms before reaching higher and brushing my fingers across the stubble on his sharp jaw. Even in this darkness, it’s clear that he’s attractive. How could he not be? The confidence of this man can only come from someone who’s capable of making women fall to their knees, and despite knowing he must have been with countless women, I’m proud to be one of the many.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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