Page 15

All traces of humor vanish from his expression. He looks up at me with something that borders on reverence, his gaze so open it catches me off guard. He swallows hard, and when he speaks, his voice is rough with emotion. “Yes, Madam. Anything you want...”

For a moment I’m speechless.

I’m not used to men surrendering their control so willingly—especially not someone who carries himself with this much confidence and power. It almost feels too easy.

Surely it can’t be this simple…

“Help me with my boots,” I say, still standing over him. He doesn’t hesitate before sliding down each zipper, removing the expensive leather with delicate precision, just like his shirt sleeves.

When the boots are off, I unbutton my skirt and slowly ease it down my legs. The way he sits back on his heels, watching me with quiet, unwavering attention, sends a swarm of butterflies through my stomach. I’ve never felt more beautiful.

I stride past him and settle on the edge of the sofa, letting my knees fall apart, the rush of cool air against my pussy making me acutely aware that my bodysuit has shifted.

He sucks in a hiss, his eyes glued to my body, but he doesn’t move toward me—as if waiting for my command.

I pat my thigh with a click of my tongue, like I’m calling a dog. “Now be a good boy and eat my pussy until I tell you to stop.”

He crawls toward me, closing the space between us. “I thought you’d never ask,” he murmurs, that familiar, charming smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His fingers catch lightly on the edge of my bodysuit before he hooks one beneath the thin fabric and pulls it to the side. His gaze lingers for a heartbeat as he admires my pussy, and then he leans in, leaving me breathless with anticipation.

The growl that he unleashes when his hot tongue laps over me vibrates all the way to my bones. I clench my jaw and let out a quiet hiss. His movements are torturously gentle, and my fingers instinctively interlace through his thick hair as I writhe beneath him, desperate for more.

Ripples of velvety pleasure bubble inside me, and my legs tighten around his shoulders. “Holy shit.”

I can feel his smile against me as he lets out a proud chuckle. And just when I think he’s about to open his cocky mouth and tease me, the pressure of his tongue intensifies as he slides two thick fingers inside me.

I feel a sharp pinch followed by a delicious fullness as his fingers curl inside me. My back bucks off the sofa, and it takes every ounce of strength I have to keep myself upright.

“Fucking hell, your pussy is sweet,” he mutters, more to himself than to me. “I think I could get off just from eating you.”

My eyes roll back in my head. The way he curls his fingers so masterfully against my G-spot and alternates the strokes of his tongue so he’s applying the perfect amount of pressure has me feeling like I’m levitating. It’s mind-bending and euphoric, and the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.

When the crest of my orgasm hits, the wave crashes over me like a goddamn tsunami, wrecking everything in its path.

I let out a guttural moan, expecting to come back down, but he never changes his pace. My orgasm bleeds into another, and then another, until it’s one continuous sensation and I lose track of time altogether.

His free hand slides up my stomach, exploratory and sensual as he palms my full breasts. “Fucking hell,” he groans like he’s physically in pain, before pressing a gentle kiss against my pussy. I don’t know if she’s more relieved for a break from coming so hard or devastated at the loss of his mouth.

But then he’s on top of me, his rock-hard cock pressing into my throbbing pussy through his pants, giving me a whole new type of friction, and I find myself grinding against him. His hands move over my curves, and every stroke elicits a shock wave of electric heat as his mouth crashes against mine. The taste of myself on him is like an aphrodisiac injected straight into my veins.

I’ve never needed anything more than I need him inside me right now.

“Fuck me,” I say on a whimper as he peppers kisses down my neck.

He moves to his knees, his eyes so dark they’re nearly black, and unbuckles his belt as his massive cock springs free. Jesus, he’s big.

After the way he just rocked my world, the sight of this man’s beautiful cock has my mouth watering. I imagine how he’d feel hitting the back of my throat.

I sit up on my elbows and take him in, feeling his gaze warm my exposed skin like sunlight. He never takes his eyes off me as he slides a large palm up and down his shaft, pre-cum already beading at the tip, and reaches in his wallet to pull out a condom. He tears the foil wrapper open with his teeth, but I take it from him, sliding it over his thick shaft. His head falls back as my hand grips his shaft and his eyelids flutter closed.

My chest swells with pride seeing his momentary loss of control, and I realize just how badly I want to do that again. It’s a dangerous thought that terrifies me, and I instantly feel myself begin to sober.

It’s just one night, I remind myself. You’re never going to see this man again. It doesn’t mean anything.

He quirks a brow. “Everything okay? Do you want to stop?”

For a moment his question catches me off guard, because no one has ever asked me that—especially not right before sex. Not to mention, this man thinks I’m a hooker. Is any man really that considerate?

“I’m fine.” I shake my head and climb on top of him, my brand-new lingerie now thoroughly ruined. My arms wrap around the back of his neck, and I slowly sink onto his thick cock.