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I turn on the engine and back out of the parking space. “So do I. Let’s go. Your place or mine?”
“Yours.” She slides her hand to my thigh.
By the time I fire up the engine, Clover is fondling my junk. Squeezing gently. Rubs me just right so I’m harder than steel. I try to put all my focus on the road but I’m losing the battle. We’re on the main drag when she unzips my pants. “Holy Christ,” I gulp.
“Eyes on the road, Joar.” She pulls my cock fully free. Leans over and engulfs me into her hot, wet mouth, fisting me at the base.
Just like I’ve dreamed about.
Throughout the twenty-minute drive to my penthouse on Wilshire, I’m lost in the tantalizing torture at the hands—and mouth—of Clover Callahan. She laves my balls, pumps me, licks me like a lollipop, takes me deep down her throat and swallows my tip. Leaves me just on the precipice of shooting off like a rocket before pulling back and starting the entire process again.
I’m shaking like a drug addict by the time we arrive at my place. “C-C-Clover. We’re here. Almost at the valet.”
“Okay.” She sits up and tucks me back into my pants. Wipes the edges of her lips with her thumb and forefinger. “We’ll finish up later.”
Those perfect lips, swollen from sucking on my cock, mesmerize me.
“I’m going to fuck the ever-loving’ hell out of you—hard and dirty—all night long.” I lean in and kiss her like she’s mine.
By tomorrow, if I’m lucky, she will be.
Chapter nineteen
Clover
The Same Night
I feel like I’m living in slow motion.
The valet opens my door and helps me out. Joar’s at my side. He takes my hand and leads me inside the building, through the lobby into the elevator. The second the doors close his lips crush mine. We’re gasping. Biting. Clawing at each other. Mouths fused together.
He reaches under my dress and plunges his fingers inside me.
Utter detonation.
I scream his name when I come, not caring who hears us.
This man sets me on fire. I’m giving in to wherever the night takes us.
I might get badly burned, but it will be worth it just to feel him inside me again.
The elevator opens directly into his penthouse, which is pitch black except for the sparkly lights of the buildings all around us.
He takes my hand, leads me through the bleary darkness. “Soft light. Fire,” he speaks into the air and like magic the room is bathed in a buttery glow and the fireplace is set ablaze.
We make it a few more steps before Joar grips my face with both hands and pulls me to him. He leans down and our desperate kisses begin again. One of his hands slides around my neck and unzips my dress. I pull away from our frenzied passion and skate my fingertips over his swollen lips. Awed.
Unsure if any of this is real, I reach down and unbuckle his belt. He unzips his pants and kicks them off while I rip open his shirt. Buttons fly everywhere. I reach down and take his thick cock in my hand. Run my hand up and down his length as he slides my dress off my shoulders. It falls away from my body, pooling around my feet.
“Get this underwear off,” he growls. Rips off my thong while I unclasp my bra. I cry out with unabashed pleasure when his lips seal around my nipple. I thread my fingers through his wavy hair to hold him in place. He alternates sucking and pinching my tight buds, which shoots zaps of pleasure all the way to my pussy.
Holy shit, my entire core shakes and trembles. Pressure builds. I cry out in ecstasy when I come.
Nothing has ever felt this way.
So right. So perfect.
But, I’m entering into in a dangerous fantasy world where he and I can genuinely mean something to each other. When I know I can’t—won’t—allow myself to ever play second fiddle to a powerful man again.
