His mouth moves to my neck, and I tilt my head back, gasping as he sucks at my pulse point. "Sebastian..."
He puts me down and drops to his knees suddenly, pushing my dress up my thighs. "I need to know what you taste like."
We're in an elevator, for God's sake, but the look in his eyes burns away any hesitation. I'm so tired of denying I don't want this, too. His fingers hook in my panties, drawing them down my legs as he peppers my thighs with soft kisses.
He lifts one of my legs over his shoulder. "Fucking perfect and wet."
The first touch of his tongue makes me cry out, my hand flying to his hair, pulling it from its neat bun. He groans against me, the vibration adding to the sensation as he drags his tongue along my slit.
"Oh God," I gasp, my hips shamelessly rocking against his face.
But Sebastian is relentless, circling and sucking in a rhythm that has me climbing rapidly toward release. His large hands grip my thighs, holding me open for him as he devours me, pressing open-mouthed kisses on my folds.
The elevator seems to be moving impossibly slowly, or maybe he's hit the stop button, I'm not coherent enough to check. All I know is the wet heat of his mouth, the scrape of stubble against my sensitive skin, the pressure building inside me.
"That's it, baby," he says between licking my pussy and sucking on my clit. "Let me feel you come."
His words push me over the edge. I shatter against his mouth, thighs trembling, fingers tight in his hair as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me. He doesn't let up, working me through every aftershock until I'm whimpering from sensitivity and my legs have turned to wet noodles.
When he finally pulls away, his chin is wet and his eyes are wild. He stands slowly, licking his lips. "You taste so much better than I imagined, baby. And I've imagined you plenty."
Before I can process that admission, the elevator doors slide open. Sebastian retrieves my panties from where they've fallen, tucking them into his pocket with a wicked grin. "Don't worry. You won't need these tonight. As a matter of fact, you don't need underwear when you're with me."
We stumble into the hallway, his arm around my waist, keeping me steady on shaky legs. The adrenaline and afterglow of orgasm make me bold. As soon as the elevator doors close behind us, I push him against the wall, which looks pretty funny considering our difference in size.
"My turn," I say, sinking to my knees.
His eyes widen. "Fuck, Mad. You don't have to?—"
"I want to." And I do. I want to taste him, to feel him lose control because of me.
Time to return the favor.
I make quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing him from the confines of his tuxedo pants. When his cock juts proudly against his stomach, I swallow hard. He's thick and veiny and as hard as a crowbar, already leaking from the tip. The sight makes my mouth water.
"Jesus Christ," he growls as I take him in my hand, stroking experimentally.
I glance up, maintaining eye contact as I lean forward and lick him from base to tip. His head falls back against the wall with a thud, one hand coming to rest in my hair.
"You're going to kill me, baby."
I take him into my mouth slowly, savoring the weight on my tongue, the taste of him. His fingers tighten in my hair but don't push, letting me set the pace. I hollow my cheeks, taking him deeper with each bob of my head.
"Fuck, your mouth. So fucking perfect."
I've never felt so powerful. Sebastian Clay, hockey superstar, millionaire athlete, reduced to incoherent groans because of me. I hum around him, and his hips jerk forward involuntarily.
"Sorry, baby. You just feel so good."
I take him deeper in response, relaxing my throat to accommodate his size. His breath comes in harsh pants, his thighs trembling under my hands. I can tell he's close by the way he swells against my tongue.
"Mad, baby, I'm going to … you should?—"
I double my efforts, making it clear I'm not going anywhere. He comes with a shout, his body going rigid as I swallow around him, taking everything he gives.
When I finally pull back, he looks wrecked in the best way. Nowhere near the heartthrob hockey player the public knows. No, this version of Sebastian is mine and mine alone.
He helps me to my feet, pulling me against him for a kiss that's somehow more intimate than what we just did.
