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“Damien,” I pant because his teasing is too much. I’m too tightly wound, too close to the edge for playful.
“Yes?” He parts my folds with his thumbs, licking me everywhere but my clit. It feels good, the wet slide of his tongue against sensitive flesh, but it’s not enough, and I can’t push the words past my lips because every once in a while, his tongue grazes the edge of my clit, and it feels incredible.
“You need more, Francesca?”
I nod.
“Look at me.” His voice is firm and commanding, and I like it.
Obeying him, I fix my gaze on his hazel eyes that seem to be full of fire. There’s something in his eyes that I can’t explain, but it’s dark, like really and genuinely dark. Instead of being scared, I’m intrigued. I want to know about that spark of madness that tells me he’s not all that he seems.
“Fuck,” I moan when he flattens his tongue and rubs it against my clit. “Damien.”
He lifts one leg and then the other over his shoulders, exposing me to him completely. The heat in his gaze is too much, too intense, and I feel pleasure flood my pussy.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers before his lips are on me again, slowly French kissing my pussy until I’m a soaking wet, quivering mess of want and need barreling headfirst towards an orgasm.
“Damien.” I pant his name when my toes start to curl, and my knees shake.
“Come for me, Frankie. I want you to come all over my tongue and drip down my chin.”
“Oh, hell.” I want to roll my eyes, but goddammit, those dirty words are doing the trick. The pussy kissing and then two thick fingers invading me are exactly the right one-two combo I need to go flying off the edge and straight into the land of orgasms. “Damien, yes,” I whimper-moan as my limbs start to relax, despite the fact that his tongue is still moving.
He gets to his feet with my legs still on his shoulders and carries me to the bedroom. Even though it’s just a few steps through the suite, he flicks his tongue against my clit, making my toes curl while pulling feral moans of pleasure from my body.
“Such a good girl,” he growls, slipping his tongue deep inside of me. “So obedient.”
So many emotions flicker through me at once that I can’t focus on just one. They all threaten to pull me under. Another swipe of his tongue, and my eyes roll back. “Damien.” Another lick, and my thigh tightens on his neck. “Fuck,” I groan softly as his lips cover my clit, and he sucks with a growl. I’m lost.
Totally fucking lost, and we’re just getting started. He tosses me on the bed like I’m some delicate flower, licking his lips like I’m the dessert on tonight’s menu.
“Francesca, my sweet little kitten.” His words are thick with lust, his gaze dark and full of heat as he slowly flicks open each button on his crisp shirt. Once the buttons are undone, he moves faster, tearing off his clothes so quickly that his movements almost become a blur. He moves lightning quick until he’s down to his briefs that show off his impressive cock, long and thick, pressing against the dark fabric.
It’s not just his cock, though. All of him is fucking magnificent. His thighs are thick and strong, cradling his cock as if to highlight its splendor. It’s hard to look anywhere else, but my gaze crawls up his body, kissed with a golden glow that makes his abs—a six-pack, of course—a work of art. His pecs are hard and tight, with pale brown nipples and thick, rippled arms that bunch and flex with his every movement.
“Damien,” I sigh breathlessly and lick my lips.
“Lie back,” he says in a deep voice that commands obedience.
I don’t consider myself an obedient woman, but my legs part. Timid at first, but his glare emboldens me, and I spread them wider until the cool air swirling around the room hits me. “Ah.”
His lips part into a grin. “Perfect.” He kneels on the bed, letting his palms run up and down the length of my legs in a slow rhythm that has me trembling. “Look at how pink your pretty pussy is. How wet and glistening you are.” His fingertip traces my lips before slipping between them, brushing back and forth against my clit and my opening. “Just for me,” he growls before sinking one finger deep.
“Damien!” My legs spread even wider, silently begging for more. “Please.”
He adds a second finger, pumping slowly, enough to tease and titillate but nowhere near enough to satisfy. “What is it, Francesca? What do you need?”
“You,” I say. “More. This.” I’m incoherent as words escape me while his magic fingers play me like an instrument.
“Look at me, Frankie.”
My eyes snap open at his use of my nickname. The way he goes back and forth between Francesca and Frankie makes me feel like two different people.
“Good girl. Eyes on me.”
That’s easy to do considering how beautiful he is, but every stroke makes it harder and harder. My body is shaking as he stretches me out deliciously, that pleasure-pain sensation so intense my nipples bead even tighter.
The thumb on his free hand lands on my clit, rubbing fast circles that feel so good, so incredible, I can feel my body temperature rise. Tears pool at the corners of my eyes, the desire to close my eyes and give in to the pleasure so strong, and my fight against it is causing me pain.
