She nodded once, her eyes drifting shut once more as he went back to his sensual massage.
She was everything he’d ever dreamed of and he’d spent the last three years dreaming of little else but her. He kissed his way up her thigh. The scent of her arousal tempted him, teased him. Blood pounded through his veins, making his head swim.
His cock, hard and throbbing, longed to sink into her warmth. He gritted his teeth, determined to taste her first.
“Hold still, sugar. I want to taste my pussy and you’re not to come without my permission. If you’re very good and stay very still I might let you come.”
“Sugar and spice,” she whispered.
“What was that?”
“Sugar and spice, Sir,” she bit out
He hid a grin at the heat in her voice. Damn, he’d forgotten how fun it was playing with her. Laken had always been filled with fire. Something he loved about her.
Rolling her onto her side, he gave her a couple of hard smacks on her buttocks. She moaned, her voice filled with arousal. He rubbed in the heat, before rolling her over once more.
“Now, since I’m holding your orgasm in my hands I’d think you’d be much more respectful, sugar,” he told her, clicking his tongue.
Leaning in, he opened her up to his gaze. Dew coated her folds, glistening under the lights. He took a long, satisfying lick.
“Please, oh please,” she begged.
“Ahh, baby,” he told her. “You’re in trouble if you’re begging already.”
He set about driving her insane, loving the cries that filled the room as he played with her relentlessly. As her pleas died down to incoherent words, he took pity on her.
“Come baby,” he told her.
The loud wail that filled the room was the best thing he’d ever heard. As soon as she started to come, he rose up and entered her in one thrust. She rippled around him, tearing down his control and he let go, plunging into her, over and over until his own moan of completion sung through the air.
Chapter Fifteen
Laken stepped out of the bedroom, dressed in the clothing Duncan had laid out on the bed—if you could call what she had on clothing.
She wore a leather red corset that barely covered her nipples. On the bottom she wore the smallest G-string she’d ever owned. Black, leather fuck-me boots ended just above her knees.
Her butt was totally on show. God, this is why she’d never let Duncan choose her clothing before. He’d never dared tell her what to wear before, even to the club they’d frequented in New York.
But she’d thrown out all her suitable clothing, not thinking she’d ever need it again, not thinking she’d ever want to wear it again.
My, how things had changed.
Duncan sat on the couch and just watched her walk towards him. The heat in his gaze helped settle her knotted stomach.
He twirled a finger and she turned slowly. A long, low whistle filled the room.
“Damn, sugar, you are looking hot.”
“Why thank you,” she said, giving him a look over as he stood. “You’re looking sexy yourself, Sir.”
Duncan wasn’t one for dressing up. Ever. So he still wore jeans, but tonight they were black. Combined with a black shirt, which had half its buttons undone, he looked absolutely hot.
She fanned herself. “Whew, is it hot in here or what?”
He grinned. “You’re good for my ego, sweetheart.”
“Like you need an ego-boost, women are always falling at your feet.”