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My orgasm rips through me in a blinding flash of ecstasy. I come with a sharp cry, my inner walls clenching around his finger.
Magnus continues stroking me through the aftershocks, dragging out my pleasure until I’m a quivering mess. He withdraws his finger and brings it to his mouth, tasting my essence with a satisfied hum.
“Delicious.” His kiss-swollen lips curl into a smirk. “But I’m not nearly done with you yet.”
Before I can catch my breath, Magnus slides into me with one smooth thrust. I gasp at the sudden intrusion, muscles stretching to accommodate his generous girth.
He stills, giving me a moment to adjust. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, angel.”
I moan, tilting my hips in invitation.
Magnus pulls back slowly, only to slam into me again. He sets a brutal pace, pounding into my slick heat like a man possessed.
Six
Magnus
My heart pounds as I check the time again. She should be here any minute.
I smooth my hands over the crisp white tablecloth and straighten the silverware for the tenth time. The candles are lit, the flowers arranged just so, the roast duck resting under its silver dome, waiting.
Everything has to be perfect. She deserves nothing less.
When the doorbell rings, I jump. A nervous flutter stirs in my stomach as I walk to the front door, pausing to take a deep breath and smooth my tie.
I open the door, and there she is.
Sandra stands on my front step, looking radiant in a little black dress and heels. Her braids spill over her shoulders, her lips painted a bright cherry red.
She smiles, eyes sparkling. “Hey baby..”
My mouth goes dry. “Hi, gorgeous. You look stunning.”
She ducks her head, then peers up at me through her lashes. “Thank you, honey. So do you.”
Heat unfurls in my belly at the desire in her gaze. I pull her into my arms, burying my face in her hair. She smells of jasmine and warmth, a scent that is uniquely hers.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I murmur.
She tightens her arms around my waist. “Me too.”
When we part, I take her hand and lead her inside. Her eyes widen as she takes in the flickering candles, the flowers, the table set for two.
“Baby, this is beautiful,” she says softly.
“Anything for you, my love.” My heart swells at the joy on her face, knowing I put it there.
Sandra turns to me, eyes shining. She cups my face in her hands and kisses me, slow and sweet.
I brush a braid behind her ear, tracing the shell of it with my fingertip. “Come, before dinner gets cold.”
I escort her to the table and hold out her chair, waiting until she’s seated before taking my own.
Over appetizers of bruschetta and calamari, we chat and laugh. The tension eases from Sandra’s shoulders, the stiffness leaving my movements. She reaches across the table to squeeze my hand, a soft smile curving her lips.
As we finish the main course, I catch her gazing at me with a look of wonder, as if she can’t quite believe we’re here together. Heat pools low in my belly, and I have to restrain myself from taking her right here on the table.
When she sets down her fork, I stand and extend a hand. “Dance with me?”
