“Isn’t it obvious?”
She shrugged. Yes, she knew the answer. I wasn’t sure that I should even be considering this conversation because my self-control was currently hanging by a thread.
“I might just go to bed,” she said. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t be trusted to remain calm, collected and in control while we were so close, the mere brushing of our knees threatening to send the sexual tension soaring.
She got to her feet and for a brief second she was right in front of me, close enough to smell, touch, taste. Pushing past me she appeared to have escaped, but I wasn’t ready to let her go. I reached forward and gripped her wrist. The feel of a thunder bolt shooting up my arm startled me until I saw that my touch had scorched her too. Gazing down, she fixed her eyes on my fingers wrapped around my arm, flexing as their grip tightened. I wasn’t ready to let her go.
It was unclear who was most shocked when a hiss left her mouth, triggering a groan from mine. Unable to do anything else, my free hand reached up and cupped her chin, lifting it so she had no choice but to face me.
“Promise me he didn’t hurt you?”
She shook her head. “Not like you mean . . . he wanted me to touch him . . .”
Her embarrassment morphed into something else, shame?
“He didn’t force you?” I was certain he hadn’t, but I needed to know. My grip tightened until she squealed, suggesting I had unintentionally hurt her. “Sorry.” I loosened my hold and rubbed the slight reddening mark with my thumb causing her low moan and glazed expression to rock me.
“No, we haven’t. I haven’t.”
I knew that, in my head and my heart, but it was like butterflies and woodland creatures were about to spring out of the walls as a euphoria erupted in my chest.
“Do you love him?” Again, I thought I knew the answer. I did know the answer and I was pushing her into a corner, forcing an admission from her that there’d be no going back from for either of us. I couldn’t continue to fight my own feelings. Desire. Lust. Need. Love.
“No, not him . . .” An awkward expression confirmed that she knew this was an admission, but I needed more. I needed her to be explicit so there would be no misunderstanding.
“Who?” My hand on her face began to trace lines. My thumb skimmed her lips and caused a whimper to leave them as they parted. “Who?” I repeated as my thumb dipped into her mouth briefly. The moisture and heat of it familiar as every touch of my lips against hers came flooding back and travelled straight to my dick that was rock hard, desperate for her.
“You.”
Her one-word confession was like music to my ears, better than any symphony that would ever be. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting in this moment, but I was in no way prepared for her to lean into my hand and kiss the palm before carefully working her way along each finger until she took my thumb into her mouth where she began to suck on it rather than simply kissing or touching it. Her eyes were closed as she seemed to focus on the movements of her mouth, and if the image before me wasn’t the most erotic thing I had ever seen. There was no way she had engaged in oral sex, yet the way her mouth worked to tease and tantalise me sent my mind there and I didn’t doubt how amazing it would feel.
CHAPTER
NINE
Clover
Iremembered Dominic kissing me in the kitchen. He pressed me against the wall, raised me so that we were eye to eye and then he leaned in, his soft lips against mine and then his tongue began to explore my mouth until I was limp and breathless. He carried me to the sofa. Sprawled beneath him, he was pressed firmly between my thighs and I could feel his hardness through his trousers.
My moans were getting louder with every second that passed.
Dominic made a path down my body, his fingers danced from my face along my neck and chest until he stopped at my breasts that were barely concealed by my dress that had been opened at the neck and pushed down.
This was finally going to happen, and I knew once it did, my life would never be the same again.
His hands roamed over the sensitive flesh, cupping and teasing until he found the stiff peaks pushing through my clothing. Gently, too gently, he skimmed them, making me arch my back in the hope of a firmer touch, which he gave me. Eachtouch increased in strength until he rolled them between his finger and thumb, more and more until the pinch was bordering on the painful.
“Oh God, Dom!” I cried as I felt wetness leave my body and hoped he didn’t realise that I was most likely staining his trousers, if not his sofa.
For a second everything paused and he gazed down at me, studying me, and I feared possibly preparing to stop. Why had I done that? Made the same mistake again. Dom, using that abbreviated name was like a literal switch that stopped everything that involved pleasure, sensation and release.
I opened my mouth to speak, to apologise and beg him not to keep going. How many times could I endure the promise of ecstasy that only ended up in agony?
“Ssh, it’s okay. I don’t even know why I told you my name was Dom. Nobody has ever called me Dom, and I have never wanted them to, until you.”
“Dom,” I repeated, causing a smirk to spread across his face as his fingers recommenced their torturous torment of my body.
“You like that?” he asked, regarding me with a cock of his head before continuing his journey south until he had rubbed across my ribs and belly, leaving him at my thighs where my dress ended.
