“Does it still hurt?” My voice is breathy.
His fingers find my waist, his thumb tracing small circles on my skin. “Not when I’m distracted.”
He pulls me closer, his gaze trapped in mine, and I lean down until our lips meet. He lets out a small moan, his eyes still closed. The sound stirs something deep inside me, and I can’t stop myself from moving my hands lower, down his chest, to the firm muscles of his abdomen.
When my fingertips brush the waistband of his trousers, his eyes flutter open. Grey pupils flare as he focuses on me. The intensity of his gaze drives me wild. I slip my fingers into his waistband.
“What are you doing?” His voice is slow and low.
“I’m distracting you.”
He keeps his gaze locked on mine as I unbutton his pants. His erection strains against the material, as if seeking me out. My palm brushes against it, and it twitches, making me lick my lips.
“Fuck, Celeste. Do you know what you do to me?”
“I’m pretty sure I do.”
I undo the remaining buttons and lower to my knees. He cups my cheek, and the heat of the night seems to intensify. I part my lips as I pull the material open and slide my hand in to cradle his hard cock and guide it free.
“Eyes on me, Highness.” His voice is gruff, and his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. Beads of sweat travellanguidly down the slick planes of his stomach.
I obey, keeping my gaze on the heated storm in his eyes as I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and give it a stroke. Two.
His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches me.
I lean forward, catching a glimpse of the precum on the tip of his thick length. My tongue darts out to lap at the moisture, and Dante sucks in a breath.
“Does that feel better?” I ask, my voice low and sultry. But before he can answer, I lower my mouth over the head of his cock and swirl my tongue around it.
His hips move forward, and his fingers lower his trousers a bit before they move into my hair, tangling them in the strands and tugging me closer. I press my thighs together as heat pools low in my belly. My mouth glides down his shaft, my tongue tracing every vein as he becomes even harder.
I keep my pace slow at first as I bob up and down, his cock covered in my saliva, my eyes trained on his parted lips as his breaths get heavier. His hands embrace each side of my head, guiding me to the rhythm he desires. I squeeze his base with my hand and stroke him along with my mouth. With every quirk of his jaw, every grunt that escapes his lips, I feel my power over him. And it makes me wetter.
“Like that?” I say between strokes.
“Fuck, yes. I love watching my cock fuck your beautiful mouth.”
I let out a whimper at his words, the vibration of my sound causing him to moan and thrust his hips forward, leaving me no choice but to take him deeper. The head of his cock hits the back of my throat, which I relax to give him more access, and I hallow my cheeks as I continue to move up and down. I cup his balls and caress them, making him stiffen even more.
When I pull back enough to circle the crown of his shaft with my tongue, Dante throws his head back, his mouth falling open. I hum against his flesh as I continue to stroke him with my lips, my tongue, my cheeks, my hand, my pace increasing. The room is filled with his grunts and raspy groans, the sounds so arousing, I can’t help but suck harder.
His hold on my head tightens, and his eyes flash with desire as he watches me.
“Fuck! Fuck, Celeste, I’m going to cum. Are you going to swallow me, little pirate?”
I moan in response as I continue the rhythm.
He makes a sound that starts with the beginning of my name but explodes into a growling groan as his hips convulse. Hot, salty ropes of cum shoot into my throat, coating it as I swallow. His fingers curl into my hair as his breath hitches, and I bob twice more, slowly, thoroughly lapping up every drop of his spilled arousal.
His breaths are still heavy as I lean back on my feet and drag the back of my hand across my mouth. As I move to stand, he grabs my arms and pulls me against his chest.
I wipe the sweat from his temples before pressing my forehead against his. When his hands caress down my arms onto my hips, slipping closer to my core, I stop him. I want him so badly, but he needs to rest and heal.
“Dante,” I whisper. “I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”
“Too late for that.”
I let out a small laugh. “No, really. You should rest. And you probably should get out of my room before someone catches us. Indira should be back any minute now.”
