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He ignores me. Once the material is all inside me, he gives me a hot glance, then carefully extracts the thong again. I groan at the sensation of the material being drawn through my sensitive, swollen folds. He lifts the thong to his nose and inhales, then, as I stare at him, he places it in his mouth and sucks it as he pulls it out again.
“Jesus,” I mumble. “You’re completely depraved.”
He tosses the item away. “I thought you should know what you’re letting yourself in for. Now, open your legs.”
Still blushing at what he did, I press my knees together and give him a rebellious look.
He leans over me again and stares down into my eyes, giving me the kind of look he gives me in the boardroom when I’ve been sassy to him. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight. In bed, I’m in charge, and I expect you to do as you’re told.”
“Are you always this bossy?”
“Yes. And you can be as much of a brat as you like, but you should know now, I’m always going to win.”
“Ooh,” I say, linking my arms behind his neck. “Challenge accepted.”
He gives a short laugh. Then he bends to kiss me. “We’re going to have so much fun. But tonight it’s late, and Huxley made me drink too much, and I just want to enjoy myself. Is that okay?”
I nod.
“So you’re going to be a good girl and open wide for me?”
My face heats again. “Are you determined to make me blush?”
He begins to kiss down my body again. “You’re going to have to get used to that.”
I sigh and cover my face with my arms as he lowers down between my legs and pushes up my knees. I feel him part my folds with a hand on either side, and a pause tells me he’s admiring the view, which makes me blush even more.
But then he dips his head and slides his tongue down into me, and all other thoughts flee my mind.
I ascend to the stars glittering out in the night sky as he slides two fingers inside me, and as he licks and sucks and teases my clit with the tip of his tongue until I’m writhing and gasping on the bed.
As everything begins to tighten, he lifts his head and waits a few seconds before starting again. He does that a few times, edging me toward the cliff, and then finally, when I’m trembling and begging for release, he closes his mouth over my clit and sucks, and this time he doesn’t stop.
Every muscle inside me contracts, and I cry out with pleasure, clamping around his fingers as the pulses hit. Six, seven, eight… ooh, they seem to go on forever… but eventually they stop, and I fall back onto the pillows.
He withdraws his fingers and sits up. “I’m never going to wash again,” he announces, brushing his hand over his face and inhaling.
I huff a sigh, knowing it’s pointless to object.
Smirking, he straddles my hips, then unbuttons his shirt, slips it off his massive shoulders, and tosses it onto the floor. Keeping his gaze on mine, he unbuckles his belt, then slowly slides it out through the loops of his trousers.
When it’s out, he folds it in half. “Do you like being tied up?” he asks mildly.
I swallow hard. “I don’t know.”
He smiles, then tosses the belt onto the floor. “Something to think about.” He undoes the button of his trousers, then slides down the zipper.
I can’t help it—as if it’s a magnet and my eyes are made of iron, my gaze drops to his black cotton boxer-briefs.
“Oh,” I say in a helpless, squeaky voice.
He pushes down the elastic of his underwear, releasing the erection that is straining toward me, eager for action. Fuck me, he’s massive.
He closes a hand around it and gives himself a couple of slow strokes. Then, leaning forward, he takes my hand and moves it down.
He wants me to touch him. First, I slide my hand down into myself. I’m swollen and slippery, and I coat my fingers with the moisture there before closing them around him. As I stroke him, my hand glides over the soft skin that coats the iron-like bar.
“So hard,” I murmur, exploring the feel of him, the ridges and veins, the smooth, velvet head. “Can I taste you?” I whisper, my voice husky with longing.
