Page 65 of To Tango, with Desire

“So fucking beautiful.”

Grabbing me close, he sucked on one breast, teasing the other with his fingers. Jolts of pleasure pulsed through me and I could barely catch my breath, but Zane was unrelenting in his pursuit of my pleasure.

“God, Zane, are you trying to make me come?”

He looked up, dark hair tousled, eyes heavy with desire. “Not until I’m buried deep inside of you.”

“Well, hurry up because the way you’re touching me makes me want to lose control.”

His grin was wicked. “Wait until I eat you out.”

I moaned as he positioned me at the back of the sofa. Doubling me over, he tugged down my jeans, then my underwear.

“Show yourself to me.”

I tilted my hips back, then shuddered when he parted me.

“Not wet enough,” he decreed. “I’ll have to rectify that.”

He blew on me now and I shivered, straining for contact. Taking his time, he kissed my thighs, my ass, trailing his tongue along the line of my crack. Teasing me, in that slow and steady way of his.

All the while, I pictured myself riding his cock or him fucking me on all fours. Anything to take the edge off.

I should stop this. I shouldn’t want it. Not after striking our bargain. But I’d be a hypocrite to say I wasn’t hot for it.

“Touch me,” I begged, thrusting my ass into the air.

“Not until I’ve tasted you.”

I cried out as he buried his face in my pussy. I had one leg perched on the back of the sofa, and I gripped the cushions to steady myself. I felt wonderfully exposed, splayed out for him to do what he wanted.

His tongue flicked at my clit, soft, quick strokes back and forth, creating a rhythm that had me panting his name. But when Zane thrust his tongue inside of me, in and out, over and over, I thought I would faint.

“Much better.” He slapped my ass, and I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder as he unzipped his trousers. His cock sprang free, thick and weeping at the tip. I couldn’t wait to feel the length of him inside of me.

I all but begged him—

I sat up, heart hammering in my chest.

Holy shit. I blinked a few times, feeling the pulsing sensation in my clit.

I was alone.

I glanced around just to be certain. No Zane. No hot sofa sex. No broken agreement.

Holy shit. It hadn’t been real.

Just a dream, Amira. A really fucking sexy dream, but a dream, nonetheless.

I shifted, uncomfortable at the dampness in my underwear. Had I orgasmed as well? The pulsing aching in my clit suggested I was close. So damn close.

How was I supposed to keep up my end of the deal when I was having sex dreams about the man? I blew out a shaky breath, determined to forget about it. The dream didn’t have to mean anything. I was in need of a good orgasm. That was all.

I would still keep up my end of the agreement. I would get to know him the proper way, without being caught up by my need for sex.

I had my vibrator. My fantasy sex with Dream Zane.

That would be more than enough to tide me over.