Her laugh is breathy, and I pull harder on her hair as I pump my fingers faster, curling them slightly so they brush against the inner walls of her pussy.
“Do you think that’s funny?” I growl. “Do you want me to make a mess of myself?”
“I-I want you…to make a m-mess…of me?—”
I bite down on her neck as I curl my fingers again, and Ciara cries out, her body arching back against me as she clenches around my fingers. “Do you want more?”
“Yes.” She angles her face to capture my mouth with hers.
I smile against her lips as I rub my thumb over her swollen clit.
Her body jerks, and from the rush of wetness that coats my hand, I know she’s close.
“That’s it, baby, come for me.” I keep my hand in her hair, holding her in place as my lips hover over hers as I work her toward her climax.
Her sweet moans turn into breathy whimpers as I rub her clit faster, groaning at how wet she is for me.
I’m tempted to skip the dinner reservations and feast on Ciara’s pussy instead.
“I-I’m comin?—”
Ciara’s body tenses, and then she cries out with her release as her pussy grips my fingers.
“Fuck, yes, that’s it.” I pump my fingers inside her, groaning when her pussy pulses around them, wishing it was my cock instead.
I don’t stop until she collapses against my shoulder, her breathing heavy as she comes down from the high. Even then, I continue to move my fingers in slow, lazy strokes as I kiss along her neck, reveling in the feeling of her naked body pressed against me.
“How are you liking Vegas so far?”
“It’s average.” Her lips quirk in a smile as she sighs, and I tug on her hair.
“Your smart mouth will get you in trouble,Tine Bhaeg. Now, you better get dressed. We have dinner reservations at eight.”
The car rideover to the restaurant is thick with silence. Ciara stares out the window the entire time, her jaw clenched and her body language so closed off that I can’t quite believe this is the same person who climaxed on my fingers barely half an hour ago.
What the hell has happened from then to now?
After I helped clean her up, she got dressed for dinner in the bathroom, and when she came out, it was like she had a personality transplant. She could barely even look at me, which hurt more than I care to admit.
She says my mood swings give her whiplash, but right now she’s the one burning hot one second and stone cold the next. I want nothing more than to tear down the walls that she’s built up again, but I don’t push her.
It’s clear she’s lost in her head about something, and I just have to give her a reason to let me in.
We arrive at the restaurant right on time, and I walk in behind Ciara, a hand hovering over the small of her back as the maître d’ leads us to our table.
Liam did good on his word and got us a table at one of Vegas’ finest restaurants, La Rosetta. There’s usually a six-month waiting list to get in, but with the right amount of money, I can buy a seat at any table I want.
Crystal chandeliers glint overhead, and the hum of clinking champagne glasses fills the air as we pass through therestaurant. But once again, my eyes are solely focused on Ciara.
She’s wearing a dark green backless gown that shows off her smooth skin and killer curves. Her blonde hair is loose around her shoulders, and my fingers itch with the need to touch it. To wrap it around my fists and tug on it hard until she’s gasping with pleasure.
I clear my throat as we approach the table, and I step around Ciara to pull back the chair for her.
She slides into her seat without even acknowledging me, but she somehow manages to offer the maître d’ a warm smile as he unfolds her napkin and drapes it over her lap.
By the time our water is poured and I’m handed the wine list, I’m no longer aroused.
I’m fucking furious.
