“Princess, that’s my line.”
But she doesn’t pause to accept my compliment as her avid eyes watch her hands slide down my chest. Her fingers splay across my pecs, her pinky fingers sliding over my flat nipples.
I groan, overcome.
“Not ornamental after all,” she murmurs as she lifts and presses her teeth to me.
“Me?”
“The male boob.” Her expression is pure mischief. “Chesticles.”
“Pectoral muscles,” I growl. But then she bites. “Fuck, yes!” Buckets and buckets for fuck, yes.
“You like it rough.” Her teeth scrape, a smile leaking through her words.
“Yeah,” I say on a tortured gasp. “Use your teeth.” My forearms tremble as I brace myself over her. Her fingernails scrape over my ribs, her hot little mouth the vehicle of such pleasured agony.
“What about here?” Her question is husky as she palms my cock, reaching for my belt.
I give a low rumble as I catch her hands, pressing them to the mattress above her head. I’m so fucking turned on. I don’t need the stimulation. “My turn now.”
She doesn’t protest.
“This dress.” My eyes roam over her tight body, her ponytail coming apart strand by strand, those sapphire eyes so dark, her breathless, heaving chest. “This fucking dress.”
It’s such an obvious play, the cut of the garment meant to drive a man wild.
It doesn’t underdeliver.
Rolling onto my arm, I frame her breast with my right hand, then trace my tongue over the soft mounds.
“Oh God.” Her hands twitch, but I hold them outstretched as I press my teeth to one soft swell.
“That’s going to mark.”
“I hope so.”
“One day, I’ll fuck you in this dress,” I growl, slipping my fingers into her cleavage. “I’ll take you dancing, then take you home.”
“Yes.”
“Bend you over the glass fence and—”
“Frighten me with a potential wifely demise.”
“No, Lavender. Your fate is set. I’m going to fuck you to death.”
“Half please,” she rasps. “Only half to death. And just to be sure, you can do it to me again.”
“Again and again.”
Her body undulates into my touch as I fold back the tight bodice, exposing her hard, pink nipples to my touch.
“So pretty,” I whisper, painting a wet stripe each in turn. A graze of teeth, a sucking pull, and I allow her fingers to reach for my head. As they tighten in my hair, the sensation rolls down my spine in an explosion of, “Fuck, yeah.”
With a growl, I envelop one tight bud—fill my mouth with all that I can. My cock pulses against her thigh.
“That’s…”
