“Good,” he says softly, holding out a hand.
I stare, my heart beating too fast. The last time he offered me his hand was the second day here, and when I took it, he reeled me into him. My heart beats too fast in my chest, leaving me breathless.Breathe.Another lesson from that day.
Shutting my eyes, I take his hand and wait.
Drake huffs out a sound that might be a laugh, or something else. “Come on, princess. I made you a promise.” He tugs gently, his grip firm on my fingers.
It takes a moment, then I realize he’s leading me along the hallway. “I thought—” I follow him, trying my best not to trip over my own feet.
Drake stops at my doorway, his bulk filling it as he gazes down at me. “I know what you thought.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say under his unyielding stare. I edge around him, through the tiny space he leaves for me to get through, and into the room, only to find I can't go any further because our hands are still entangled. The pressure of his fingers on mine feels so good that I don’t want to pull away, but if this is where I leave him, then letting go is the only option.
“I don’t want to,” I whisper into the empty room without meaning to voice the words.
“Then don’t.”
Drake’s other hand glides along my arm until he grips my shoulders. He doesn’t turn me as he steps into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. I jump as it slams in its frame. The walls swirl around me before my back is pressed to the door’s hard, cold surface. A cry tears from my throat. I clamp a hand over my mouth, unwilling to ruin my voice.
“You–” I’m not sure what I’m fighting as I push forward, but my hands hit nothing at all, slapping at the air. “What are you doing?” I pant, scrabbling at Drake’s dark hair as he kneels before me.
He gazes up at me with the sort of adoration and worship I've seen in the eyes of the audience, from fans when I’m on stage a hundred times, though never this close. “Giving you the goodnight kiss you’ve been begging me for, princess.”
I want to argue that I haven’t beenbegginghim for anything, or that he’s in the wrong position. But when his mouth presses tomy pussy, bare beneath the restrictive latex pants, the sensation is so much more than I’ve ever imagined. Drake closes his mouth gently over my mound, his tongue and lips working sweetly to French my pussy in simulation of what he might do to my mouth.
The latex acts like a second skin, enhancing every touch, and Drake knows exactly what he’s doing. A scream builds behind my lips. I clamp my hand over them but it’s too late. The moment he swipes his tongue across my clit, my preoiled skin, needed to slide into the latex in the first place, is already wet and ready to go. I come under his knowing kisses, my knees buckling as he flicks at my clit over and over.
Heat explodes between my thighs as I pant for him, but he doesn’t stop, sucking and licking and kissing. His tongue probes my entrance, and I moan at the depravity of him unable to push inside me.
“Drake,” I whisper, opening my legs. “I want you inside me.”
He doesn't answer, doesn’t take his mouth from me, only picks up one leg, tossing my knee over his shoulder. His mouth pins me to the door, the pressure of his kisses and sucks driving me to the edge of bliss again already.
I whimper, riding his mouth as he finds the perfect place to flick. My clit hardens under his ministrations. Twisting to get away from him doesn’t work, the sensations too much. He clamps his hands on my hips, holding me open, in place, and goes back to work. I scream my way through a second orgasm, losing all sense of who I am and where.
My body convulses. His warmth surrounds me everywhere.
“I got you, princess,” Drake murmurs, hauling me into his chest. His heart beats close to mine, his hands knotted in my hair.
I don’t even care that it’s a mess for once. “Can you do that every night?”
“Every night that you need, Cha Cha,” he murmurs, tipping my head back. “Wear those pants and I’ll lick and kiss every inch of you.”
I swallow at the image of him, slick coating the insides of my thighs. “And fucking me?”
“Christ,” he growls, sliding one hand free of my hair to coast along my side and grip my hip. He pulls me sharply into him, seeming to relish the cry he draws at the action. “Two orgasms isn't enough for you tonight?”
I squeeze my thighs together, but the latex doesn’t do half enough to ease the ache inside me. “I want you,” I whisper.
He traces fingers across the front of my pants, sliding over the damp spot where he licked and kissed me and forced orgasms from my body. A few strokes and he presses in quickly. I arch up, but my hips press forward, wantingmore.
“How wet are you, princess? You feel so goddam hot,” Drake mutters. “If I peel these off you, you’re gonna soak me.”
Heat stains my cheeks. “I had to oil myself to get them on,” I whisper, unsure if that’s the answer he wants. “It’s a trick we use on stage. It’s easier to slide…”
“Everything on,” he growls, rubbing me gently. I work my pussy against his hand, mewling softly. “Fuck, you gonna cum for me again, Cha Cha?”
“Yes. Please. Don’t stop,” I beg. A deep noise rumbles in his chest when I nod, panting.
