He was inexorable. Relentless.
And that, too, made me come.
He fucked my face while my eyes overflowed with my gratitude and my pussy wept and shook.
And when he came, he flooded the back of my throat, and there was nothing to do but take it. Nothing to do but swallow him down, again and again, until he was done.
He pulled me off his cock, then dropped his hands, and I sighed because I wanted them back. Holding me. Controlling me. Making me burn bright beneath his control.
“Take your hands off your pussy,” he told me, dark and intense, only another layer of roughness in his voice indicating anything had happened. But I could feel it inside me. “And lick them clean.”
I shuddered. I stayed on my knees and slowly pulled my hands from beneath my sparkling bikini bottoms. His gaze was bright and hot, and my nipples tightened even further as I lifted one hand and slowly, carefully, licked each finger clean.
I tasted myself, tart and sweet, and felt lust and need coil tightly inside me.
All over again.
He stripped himself of the dark suit he wore, watching me lick my fingers clean of my own need.
By the time I finished he stood before me naked, gloriously male, and packed tight with hard muscles. He was built along powerful lines thicker and more solid than any dancer. I thought I might actually die if there wasn’t more. A lot more.
And that cock of his that I could still taste in my mouth, deep inside me at last.
“Come with me,” he said, another one of those harsh, delicious orders that danced around inside me, kicking up light and heat and more of that dark, dark need I hadn’t understood could boil in me so quickly. “And bring your wings.”
He moved farther into the suite, not bothering to turn the lights up higher than where they sat already, low and inviting. There was the sparkle of Paris in the windows before him, but I was mesmerized by the play of muscles in his fine back, and his high, gorgeous ass.
I would have followed him anywhere. For free.
“Little dancer.” It took me a fuzzy moment to realize my gaze had dropped to admire that ass, but he had turned his head to look back at me. And when I lifted my gaze I found his mouth in a stern line that made my heart wheel about in delight and a kind of erotic anxiety bubble inside my chest. “You really don’t want to keep me waiting.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Sebastian
I WAS HARD again almost instantly, as if I hadn’t emptied myself down my little dancer’s lovely throat.
She was glorious.
I’d controlled the way I fucked her, watching in a kind of greedy disbelief as she rode her own hands and then came. Again and again, red and shuddering as her hips rocked.
It was the hottest blow job I’d ever had.
There was a part of me that was tempted to repeat the experience, again and again, until I couldn’t take it anymore.
But I changed my mind as she rose.
Because that body of hers was like one lon
g, perfect muscle. And I already knew that she was flexible. Lithe and lovely onstage, and even more so naked.
She made my mouth water.
And she did as I asked, reaching down and picking up those feathered wings of hers from the gleaming marble in the foyer, then dragging them behind her as she came toward me. I wondered if she knew the picture she made, my distinctly fallen, sulky angel swaying toward me on her bare feet, her breasts jutting high on her chest with her nipples hard. That mouth of hers swollen from my cock.
And her eyes all over me, filled with a kind of bright, hot wonder that I wanted badly to be real.
I tried to shove that urge aside. It was naive at best, and I was not a naive man. This was a transaction, not a romance, and I needed to remember that. I’d never needed to remind myself such a thing before, but this woman was like a drug. The kind of drug I never permitted myself to sample, too certain was I that it would wreck my control.