I hum a small laugh. “Not for polite company, pet.”
She heads toward me, each step picking up more of a dancing sway, impelled by the music. “It’s a good thing I’m notpolite, then.” She smacks her hands down on top of mine where they rest on the chair’s arms. “Don’t move these, got it? No touchy-touchy. Look only.”
“Understood.”
As Kesha catapults into the song’s chorus, belting out, “I’m a motherfucking woman… !” Sage throws one leg up and plants her small foot on my knee. Her inked arms shoot over her head, opening the shirt like a theater curtain, and her hips rotate, smooth and provocative. I scarcely know where to rest my starved gaze as it tours her body.
Her foot is warm where it braces on my knee. The pale highway of her leg, mapped with its bright tattoos, leads me to the gyration of her pelvis. I spot the appendectomy scar, which is unusually long, compared to others I’ve seen. My right handtightens on the chair arm as I suppress the desire to run a fingertip along the irregular ridge of flesh.
I think she notices my attention there, because she slides her foot off my knee and shifts to straddle my legs. She wriggles against me, sinuous, her expression intense with erotic promise. The lushness of that taut bum and flexed legs rubbing my thighs is overwhelming. I grip the chair harder and meet the challenge in her leonine eyes.
“You’ll be the death of me,” I manage.
“Awww…” She rises and backs off me, but I mourn the loss of her for only a moment. Undoing the button, she pitches the shirt away before turning and settling over my lap arse-first. “But what a great way to go, ain’t it?” she concludes.
All I can do is emit a helpless groan as she rides my lap. The knickers are cut high—not quite a thong but exposing most of those stunning round cheeks. She moves front to back, sliding along me with the obscured heat of her barely covered pussy. Every few passes, she backs up just enough to settle briefly on the aching pole of my tormented cock.
I’ve been a pathetically horny bastard all my life, but I can honestly say I’ve never been driven by a need this visceral. I feel like I could fuck both of us into a pile of sentient jelly, given the chance. Sage is the only thing that exists right now, and my desire circles her like she’s the sole landing spot in a vast ocean. There’s nowhere else to go, nothing other than this fiery woman, the rasp of fabric along my tense thighs, the tilt of her sweet hips, the music drowning us in its heady pounding.
My focus moves up the arroyo of her spine, fascinated bythe muscles rolling beneath her inked skin. Her arms are high, hands dancing around each other like candle flames. Soft, damp aqua waves swing along her shoulder blades, and there’s nothing I want more—nothing I’veeverwanted more—than to gather her hair in one fist and bend her over the bed, jerk down those filmy knickers, and give her arse a good smack before I sink my cock into the paradise I suspect is sultry-wet.
She rises and moves a few feet away, executing a graceful twirl to face me, running her hands over her torso. Seeing her touch skating over the hard nipples is agony. I want to taste every part of her. To lick and nip those rosy peaks, to devour her mouth and savor the vibration of her moan as our tongues join. I want to weave my fingers with hers, kiss my way down her body, and feel her hands flex and twist in a delicious anguish of arousal as I flick and tease and suck her engorged clit, pulling back to flirt along her labia until she thrusts against my face, begging me to put my mouth back on her clit and let her come.
My jaw tight, nostrils flared with tension, I grit out, “What would it take, Salvi? Name it. I’d fucking burn the world to have you.”
“Oh yeah?” Her voice is high and airy, teasing me.
“Five floors of this hotel can know how hard I am for you, how I’ll make you feral, shuddering and pleading for more until you’re hoarse. Let’s take this where we really want it to go. One night—anything and everything you crave. I’m your eager fuckin’ servant.”
She stalks back my way and straddles my lap again, assessing my face for a long minute. “Don’t… you dare… move…”she finally whispers. Cupping my jaw, she places a featherlight kiss on my right cheek.
The self-control necessary to keep my head immobile is humbling. Tonotturn and capture her mouth, my hands diving into her hair and squeezing fistfuls… I’m not sure how I exert the discipline. But I’m too afraid this heavenly battle of wills could be called off with any false move, sending her into a mischievous leap to her feet, chuckling over my pain as she walks away and tells me to sleep in the chair.
She reaches between us and opens my trousers, and I arch to help her in the task as my tragically aching cock is freed into her grip.
“This,” she says just above a whisper, so close to my lips that I can feel the flutter of her words, “is a nice girthy dick you’ve got.”
She slowly strokes it to the base, then back up to the tip, twisting her wrist to smear me with the silky beads of moisture she’s wrung out. A shiver drags through me.
“Can you be a good boy and let me fuck you?” she murmurs. “No touching me, no kissing. Just let me get myself off on this big pretty dick with noooo thought of your own pleasure.”
For a moment I can barely speak, my throat is so tight. I swallow hard. “Watching you comewouldbe my own pleasure,” I almost gasp. “A fucking privilege. Take whatever you like.”
Her smile is a Cheshire cat curl. She rises and goes to her suitcase, withdrawing a string of Magnum condoms and—oh, bloody hell,yessssss—the pink handcuffs she had in her pocketwhen she collected me from the airport. She tears one condom packet off the strip and drops the rest on the bedside table before coming back to me.
“Stand up and get your pants off, then turn around,” she directs. To free up both hands, she licks the wrapped condom and sticks it to her chest, just below a collarbone. I hardly know how to react, whether to laugh or groan—the gesture is both silly and unbearably hot.
I comply, and she puts the cuffs around my wrists behind my back before rotating me and shoving me onto the wing chair. Climbing aboard my lap again, clad only in those black knickers, she rises tall on her knees and folds the condom into one hand before thrusting a pink nipple toward my face. “Show me what you can do with this,” she commands.
My eyes close as I brush my lips across the hard, warm peak. The scent of her skin is paradise—citrussy and sugary. There’s a golden muskiness rising between us, where she’s lightly cocking her hips, rubbing her divine pussy against the iron battering ram of my cock. I lick a slow circuit around her areola, then tease the nipple in gentle passes with the flat of my tongue. She leans closer with a tiny, whimpering sigh, and I draw the delicious bud into my mouth and give a bit of suction while flirting the tip of my tongue on the underside.
She releases a shivery groan, and her hands go to my shoulders, digging in with her short, unpainted nails. “Nice, nice…” she breathes. “Fuckingnice.” Her eyes are closed, and without opening them she tears open the condom and sweeps it down over my throbbing length. “Okay, waitwaitwait,” she half whispers, pulling her nipple from my mouth. “I don’t wannacome too fast. I’m so turned on. Fuck, why do I want you so much?”
“I can’t touch, but may I look my fill?” I ask.
“Hell yes, honeybee. Watch me fuck this big dick of yours.”
I look down between us, and Sage pulls her knickers to one side, tilting her hips up and using two fingers to spread herself, showing off the generous mauve berry of her clit. Just as she told me earlier, it most certainlyisdeliciously prominent. My mouth all but waters, imagining licking and sucking it, leisurely and soft, with just enough pressure to make her beg for more, grabbing my hair and pulling me against her, writhing with need.
