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It’s an enormous turn on.
“I have more plans for you, but not for this.” Dominic tugs me away from the wall and then reaches around to pull down the zipper on my dress with a practiced finesse.
Just like that, I’m naked in front of him—there was barely room for panties in that dress and zero leeway for a bra—and he’s still fully clothed. The imbalance is striking and exciting, and I’m too enthralled to feel insecure or shy about my body. Not with how amazing this all feels.
And certainly not with the way he’s staring at me, like he can’t get enough… although I get the feeling that’s not going to keep him from trying.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his voice rough with desire. He cups one of my breasts in his hand, weighing it and kneading the soft flesh, and I blush. There’s so much ownership in that simple touch, and I’m stunned at how freaking hot it is.
It’s more than enough to get me going again, and I marvel at the fact that I’ve already come twice and he hasn’t come at all. Not so far. Not yet.
“Fuck, I need to be inside you. Your pussy tastes like heaven, and I know it’s going to feel even better wrapped around my cock, squeezing me so tight it’s like you’re trying to kill me.” Dominic chuckles roughly. “And you know what? I might just let you, Spitfire. I think I’d die happy.”
He scoops me up in his arms again, as effortlessly as he did earlier when I nearly got smeared across the pavement by his car, then carries me across the room. I hang on around his neck, trying to absorb my surroundings. This place has to cost a ton, all sleek and spare modernism mixed with industrial pipes and exposed fixtures, and I wonder for the first time what exactly Dominic does for a living to be able to afford a place like this.
Just how far away from real life is this fantasy of the two of us together? At any other time, on any other night, this guy is probably way out of my league.
Dominic notices my eyes flitting around as I take in the penthouse suite, and he tosses me down on an extremely plush king-sized bed. I don’t so much bounce on the mattress as sink into it. It’s like landing on a cloud.
“You’re overthinking things again, Sara,” he says, reminding me of the roles we’re playing here tonight. Of his advice back in the bar.
That’s right. I’m supposed to have a goal.
And if that goal is absolute pleasure, then I need to stop thinking about our possible differences and seize on the one thing we have in common: tonight.
“All you have to think about is this,” he adds, slipping off my shoes before leaning over me and kissing me deeply. I can still taste myself on his lips, and it’s still deliriously sexy.
“And this.”
His fingers circle my sensitive nipples, drawing them up into taut beads. I arch my back and sigh when the contact increases, Dominic rolling the pebbled skin between the pads of his finger and thumb before tugging sharply enough to make me gasp.
“And this.”
He drags his hand downward, back between my thighs, and strokes my swollen clit. He’s gentle at first, as if he’s gauging my lingering sensitivity. I am sensitive, but my body is so keyed up right now that instead of being too much to take, his touch is everything I need. I roll my hips against his hand, deepening the pressure of his fingertips against my cilt, and he hisses out a breath.
“You like this?” he rumbles, slipping his fingers into my very eager body.
“Y-yes. Oh fuck, yes,” I manage, wondering how he can even ask that. At this point, he has to know that I like it. He seems to have my entire body mapped out—maybe even better than I do, and I’ve lived in it for twenty-five years.
“Tell me, then,” he demands, shoving off his suit jacket and then unbuttoning his shirt with his free hand while continuing to finger fuck me with the other. Button by button, he reveals a chiseled chest that looks like it’s been sculpted from marble. God, he’s fucking ripped. A light dusting of hair covers his chest, and the sculpted, defined abs below that taper into a lean waist and another tiny trail of hair that disappears into his pants.
“I like it,” I whisper, my voice thick with desire. “I want it. More. Please.”
“Good girl.”
He rewards me by adding another finger, shrugging off his shirt and letting it flutter to the floor. He’s so damn sexy shirtless that my mouth actually waters. I want to feel that cut, broad chest beneath my hands. Explore its planes and contours for myself.
“Don’t make me wait,” I manage, my voice trembling. I’ve never wanted something so badly in my life. His fingers inside me feel incredible, but I want all of him. Need all of him. I want to feel his cock, to know what it’s like to be filled by him entirely. “Don’t make me beg.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” His eyes glint. “I bet you’d sound so good begging, Spitfire. I bet I could get the filthiest pleas to fall from those pretty lips. Come on. Let me hear it.”
“I…” I swallow, my pulse thrumming in my throat. “I want you to fuck me. Please.”
He hums his approval, the sound vibrating through the air between us. “That’s a good start. And I was right. Listening to you beg makes my dick so damn hard.”
As if to prove his point, Dominic smirks at me as he palms his cock, but his gaze is flint sharp and holds a promise. In this moment, I sincerely believe that he could have me here all night, giving me orgasm after orgasm until I went crazy. It feels like a game he’d like to play—maybe one he’s played before.
Because even with his fingers absently working their way in and out of me as he gets undressed, I’m right on the edge again. And he knows it.
