Page 22 of Dishonored

“Ten, nine … keep going.”

His fingers worked harder inside her cunt—wet flesh, and a sucking sound that drove him damn crazy. She was going to feel divine when he slipped his cock in between her hot, soaked pussy in just a few minutes.

“Eight, seven, six …” Carina breathed out.

Her shaking was worse.

Her words were followed by a keening noise.

“Five, four, three,” she mumbled.

And again, and again, and again his fingers drove into that sensitive spot. She was right fucking there, and he knew it.

“Two,” she barely managed to get out.

“One,” Caesar finished for her before he covered her red-stained lips with his own.

Christ, she tasted like sex and candy on his tongue as he kissed her through the orgasm. He felt her arousal flood his fingers, and like he figured she would, wet the couch, too. There was no hesitation in her kiss, either, only a hungry need that let him know she wasn’t going to show anymore shyness with him tonight.

Good.

Pulling his hand from between her thighs, and putting distance between their mouths, he let those two fingers he’d fucked her with tap against her red lips.

“Open up, and taste.”

She didn’t question.

Didn’t even speak.

No, those red lips of hers opened, she took his fingers in, and her tongue wrapped around his digits to clean them.

And he found heaven.

Or good God …

Maybe she was hell.

“I thought your favorite place to fuck was inside the club?”

“It is.”

Caesar flashed Carina a dark grin as he reached over and hit the switch on the glass elevator that would force it to stop. Instantly, the floor lurched under their feet, the lights above their head switched to a deep red, and the music that had been pumping through the speakers quieted altogether though they could still hear it from the club.

Carina glanced up, and grabbed onto the railing at the sudden change, and only caught Caesar’s gaze when he stalked toward her in the small four-foot by four-foot section of space. Her body relaxed, and that smile of hers was back in a blink.

“Oh,” she said simply.

Caesar nodded. “Yeah, oh. Look around.”

Her head turned to peer out the glass walls of the elevator at the same time Caesar grabbed ahold of her face. He got the first taste of her skin right under her jawline, and the responding sigh he got from her only made him want more.

He licked and sucked at the pulse point on her throat while his firm grip on her face kept her forced against the glass wall. Her skin tasted like heat, sin, and flowers—roses, he thought. She smelled and tasted like fucking roses, and it was glorious.

She didn’t shy away from his touch—pushing her lower half into his while her hands rubbed the outline of his cock through his trousers.

“I can see everyone,” she breathed.

Caesar bit down on her collarbone, and then licked the same spot when she hissed. “That’s kind of the point, donna.”