Page 71 of Cruel Shame

Raising my lips, I let him unbutton my skirt and whisk it to the floor. “Better?”

His gaze lingered on the patch of curls at the juncture of my thighs. “Fucking beautiful.”

Before I could say anything else, Orlando positioned himself between my legs, his fevered breaths fanning across my folds. He didn’t mess about with soft licks or gentle kisses but instead held me down and swiped the flat of his tongue against my clit.

A lash of fire swept over my slit, tearing a cry from my lips. Orlando growled and treated me to the hottest French kiss just where I needed it most. His tongue flicked up and down my clit with an urgency that made my back arch, my toes curl, and my fingers trap handfuls of his blond curls.

It was insane. Ecstatic. Relentless. As though he’d hungered for me and had finally gotten his chance.

My entire body turned into a ball of nerves, vibrating and quivering under Orlando’s skillful tongue. All that pent-up pleasure from the blowjob coalesced behind my clit, making the organ double and swell with sensitivity.

I bit down hard on my bottom lip, trying to stifle my sounds. It wasn’t like me to lose control, but the sensations wrung me tighter and tighter like a piece of silk about to fray under the strain. My hips shuddered, and my legs curled around his head, but he didn’t stop, didn’t waver.

His deep groans reverberated against the muscles of my core, reminding me that this was only the first course in a long banquet of fucking. Orlando’s fingers tightened around my thighs, and he increased the pressure of his tongue making the fraying restraint I had over my body tear like a rag.

Pleasure spread across my body like flames, starting from my core and sweeping down my legs, up my torso and into my clattering heart. I threw back my head and moaned. Orlando kept going, drawing out the climax, extending that unending pleasure until I was a crying, quaking mess.

When the muscles of my legs melted off the bone, and my limbs finally collapsed, he scrambled on top of me and placed a kiss on my lips.

“Are you alright?” he murmured.

“That was…” My mind had lost the ability to fill the blanks.

He kissed my forehead. “I know. There’s something about waiting so long for someone that makes it worthwhile.”

“You haven’t fucked me yet,” I croaked.

Orlando wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me against his chest. “Never, ever change. Right now, you are absolutely perfect.”

I reached down to find him even harder than ever. That’s the thing about boys my age. They need next to nothing to get started again. Prime, ever-ready studs, and I had two at my disposal plus a third who was saving himself but was eager to fool around.

Orlando reached down to his blazer jacket, fumbled around its pockets and pulled out a condom. “Want to do the honors?”

“With these hands?” I raised my arms, letting him see my trembling fingers.

“Allow me.”

Closing my eyes, I exhaled a long breath and let myself melt into the limousine’s leather seat. I knew it would be good between us, but I hadn’t expected him to be so intense. While Orlando kissed and caressed my nipples, I could feel him unrolling the condom over his dick and rising off the seat. With a happy sigh, I let my legs flop open as he positioned himself into place.

“Lilah,” he murmured. “Are you awake?”

I cracked open an eye. “You know that relaxed feeling you get after a massage?”

“Oh yes?” he said with a laugh.

“I want you to massage me from the inside-out.”

“How do you like it?”

“A nice and slow buildup. When I catch my breath, we’ll swap places, and I’ll give you that hard ride.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Orlando made love to me twice in the back of the limo while the driver took us around the back roads of Templar. We had to put our clothes back on for our evening of debauchery, but Orlando promised me that it would be room service all the way until morning.

Just as we were pulling into a Tudor-style country hotel on the outskirts of the village, both our phones buzzed.

My message was from Maxwell: