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She likes how I smell, fuck yeah, I cheered inwardly as I slipped a hand behind her back to tug at the zipper of the little black dress she was wearing. The skin of her back was just as smooth as I’d imagined and the next couple of minutes were a blur of clothing dropping to the ground and desperate kisses that sucked the breath right out of me.
I’d been rock hard since we’d gotten into the taxi, the surreptitious brushes of her fingers and her scent making it hard to concentrate on the idle conversation the driver had been trying to hold.
Now, my cock was practically begging for relief as it stood at attention, ready for the woman in front of me to peruse, and hopefully, give her approval of.
Ciara’s brown eyes slid down from where they’d been locked on to my face and her stare was so intense I could practically feel it skittering down my chest as if she was physically reaching out and touching me.
“I didn’t think you were packing all of this,” she commented a bit dryly, the corner of her mouth pulling up into a self-satisfied smirk. “I see now why they call you Wiz.”
A laugh huffed out of me at that. The real reason I’d garnered my nickname was because I’d gotten really good at pulling a miracle out of my ass during games, seemingly by magic. But at this point I’d agree to anything she said as long as it meant she was going to brush those pretty fingers of hers against me.
Not wanting to wait any longer, I reached for her hand and brought it to my length, wrapping her fingers firmly around it.
“It’s hard for you,” I told her, reaching up to cup her face in my hands and pull her lips to mine.
Ciara seemed to understand my unspoken request, because her fingers tightened and gave my cock an experimental pump.
A muffled grunt left me at the sudden sensation of pleasure that was tingling down my legs.
Then she was giving my chest a shove and my back was hitting the bed with a thump as she straddled my waist and began to notch the head of my cock at her weeping entrance.
Things were moving much faster than I thought they would and I laid a hand on her thigh.
“Wait a second,” I murmured, realizing that she was about to slide down onto my cock without any sort of foreplay.
Gently flipping us over, I smoothed my hands down her front, my palms roughing over her dusky nipples and making them harden.
“Don’t go too fast.” I cupped one of her breasts in my hand, testing the weight of it.
“I want you now though,” Ciara murmured with a pout, reaching up to pull me down to her again, but I dodged away from her grabbing hands.
“And I want to remember every moment of this,” I told her as I leaned back on my knees and let my eyes explore her naked body.
She looked gorgeous lying on top of the white duvet, one hand tossed over her head and the other resting on her stomach, just over the mottling of some scar tissue.
Ciara’s eyes followed my gaze and she flattened her palm, covering it completely. “Car accident when I was younger,” she explained before I could ask.
“I’ve got one of those too.” I pointed to the line going up the side of my left thigh. “My dad hit a patch of black ice and flipped our minivan.”
I lifted her hand and brought it to the raised flesh, tracing her pointer finger along the length of it.
“Just let me take care of you tonight,” I murmured after the moment was over. “Don’t rush.”
“Sorry,” Ciara said, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. “I’m not very good at giving up control.”
My laugh was loud and sharp. “I’ve only known you for an hour and I could have told you that.”
Dropping down I pressed my lips to her sternum and began my slow trek down her body. I could almost taste her sweet scent on her skin as I stopped to pay homage to each of her breasts, my mouth wrapping around her left nipple before moving to the right one.
Ciara, for her part, had stopped talking and stopped trying to hurry me along. Instead, her hands slid into my hair, gripping with enough tightness to make my scalp tingle with pleasure as a low gasp left her lips.
She seemed to be melting before my very eyes and by the time my mouth left her nipples and whispered down her stomach, her eyes were shut and she was completely relaxed underneath me.
I knew she was going to taste as divine as she looked. Women didn’t look ethereal the way she did and didn’t taste amazing, and one flick of my tongue confirmed it.
Ciara wasn’t an omega, but the scent of her damp center was still strong and sweet, cinnamon mixing with feminine musk that made my instincts rattle inside of my brain.
Her fingers tightened in my hair and when I shifted my gaze up to her face, I found her watching me through heavily lidded eyes as my mouth remained buried between her thighs.
