He challenges me with his gaze. I want to protest, to make him stop this game so I can have him, but I also want to play along, to enjoy this time with him. Because after tonight, we’re going to have to pretend wedon’t have feelings for each other. We’re going to have to keep our distance and we won’t be able to touch each other. We’ll be watched closely and might not be able to find a stolen moment to be together for a long while.
“Can you do that, Highness?” He slides the flower down between my legs, lightly twirling it.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He lets out a low chuckle. “That’s my good girl.”
It takes every ounce of control not to squirm, not to moan as he traces the contours of my body, teasing and stroking, caressing my skin, bringing the flower to skim my inner thighs and dance over my throbbing pussy. He glides the petals up over my pebbled nipples, and I almost arch into the feel of it. I open my mouth but don’t release the gasp of pleasure.
I beg him with my eyes, but he only smirks.
“Don’t move, little pirate,” he repeats, running the peony over my breasts again, but this time, he follows the touch with his lips.
I fight the urge to moan when he laps at one nipple and then gently grazes his teeth over it. It’s too much, the yearning, the desperation, the fucking anticipation. This is torture. Sweet, sweet torture. I close my eyes and throw my head back, the fire inside me making me dizzy.
The flower trails back down to between my legs, and he teases me with it, stroking up and down. Once, twice. On the third caress, I almost buck forward, so desperate for more. The light touch of the petals over my clit has me grinding my teeth with need. His teeth trail over my nipple as he glides the flower over my center. My whole body is burning with need.
He teases me again, stroking my clit with the silky flower, the pressure too light. I push my hips up to meet the touch, but he pulls away with a chuckle. I almost growl in frustration, but then he strokes over my center once more, and then the flower falls away, only to be replaced by his fingers a second later. He slides two fingers along my opening, and this time, I can’t hold back the intake of breath.
“So fucking wet,” he breathes into my breast.
Oh, gods.I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
He strokes his fingers through my wetness again and then circles my clit. I rock my hips forward, seeking out more of his touch. He told me not to move, but I can’t stop myself. Thankfully, he seems to have given in to his desires and slips his fingers into the velvet heat of my core. He growls low in his throat, kissing his way back up to my mouth as his thumb applies the perfect amount of pressure on my swollen nub. When he slides his fingers deeper inside me, I cry out. The belt cinches tighter around my wrists as I writhe.
My head thrashes, my back arching to get closer to him. “Don’t stop. Please.”
He kisses me hard, slipping his fingers out of me.
I actually whine this time, which causes him to chuckle. But before I can protest, he reaches up and unties the belt. With my hands finally free, I reach for him, my palms on his shoulders and my fingers digging into his skin.
“More. Dante, please.”
He positions himself between my knees, his gaze locked with mine as he wraps a hand around his erection and strokes himself once. Twice. Three times. I can’t help but stare at the drop of precum that beads at the tip.
“Don’t fret, Princess. I’m not stopping yet. I intend to fuck you so thoroughly, so diligently, until you’re so soaked in my cum that the scent of me cleaves to you for months.”
My hands go to his hips, the need in me driving me to the brink.
He places the head of his cock against my entrance, covering it with my wet arousal. His mouth parts, and his lids grow heavy with lust. His eyes are on mine as he pushes into me, and the room echoes with my cry of pleasure. He slides in further, stretching me as he glides every inch of his hard length into the hot center of my core, until he’s fully seated. My pussy clenches around him, as if it’s fighting to keep him there.
“So good and wet,” he says, his voice gruff. “You take my cock so well.”
His mouth comes down to devour mine as he pulls almost all theway out of me and then thrusts back in. I tighten my hold on him as he pumps in and out of me, my small gasps growing louder. I’m burning up. I’m on fire, and the heat is delicious. He reaches down and wraps one arm under my knee, lifting my leg until it’s propped on his upper arm. His strokes reach deeper at this angle, hitting that sweet spot that makes the world blur, and the sound of our wet bodies slapping together fill the room.
“Fuck,” he growls, low and slow.
He undulates, and I run my fingers over his sweaty skin, grasping and pulling him closer. This fire is consuming me, and I need him to stoke the flames higher, higher. He shifts, wrapping his arm around me and lifting me until I’m sitting in his lap, his cock still deep inside me. I gasp at the feel of it, the completeness of it. As if I wouldn’t be whole without it. He leans forward, leaving sloppy kisses all over my breasts as I lift my hips, sliding up his length and pushing back down, soaking his cock in my hot desire.
“Oh. Dante!”
“Yes, love, keep going,” he urges. “I want to remember every moment of this. I need the image of you riding my cock to last the entirety of this tour.”
He reaches between us and rubs my clit as I rise and fall, grinding and stroking his hard, thick length with the quivering walls of my pussy. Our moans and whimpers call out and answer each other, our slick skin growing hotter with every thrust, every plunge. He grabs a handful of hair at the nape of my neck, twisting the strands in his fingers, and tugs, exposing my neck to him. He devours my throat as we fuck, and my heart is thrashing in my chest. His thumb on my clit moves faster, and my breathing picks up. I’m so close.
“Cum for me, Celeste.”
“Oh, gods.” I’m at the edge of a cliff, ready to soar.
