his eyes. He wore the biggest grin and I hated how happy he looked.
I grabbed his hair hard and screamed, “PLEASE!”
He chuckled. “I knew you’d beg.”
I fisted his hair and put him on my pussy, pushing him into me.
His tongue licked furiously up and over my clit and I lost control, shrieking, demanding, begging…
“Oh god… oh god…”
A fire rose in me so hot, I wanted to rip my shirt open, unfurl myself completely and offer my whole self to him ripe and ready.
I wrapped my legs around his head and he growled, adding some fingers inside me.
My hips pivoted up and down and hair became plastered to my forehead, the bed became wet beneath my bottom.
I love you… I wanted to scream.
Tightening my fingers in his hair, I pulled hard and he moaned in pain, grabbing my hand to stop me pulling any harder.
He kept hold of my fingers, lacing his through them, holding my hand as he ate me out religiously.
“Please, Dante. Please.”
“What is your need?”
“To come.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
He kept hold of my hand still, the thumb of his other hand just pressing slightly inside me, against my upper wall. He licked along the length of my pussy, up and down, up and down, and I moved in sync with his rhythm.
The fire grew and grew and I almost lost my breath as my pants became faster, shallower, sharper and more desperate. He dug his hands underneath me and raised me to his mouth, holding me up by my buttocks.
“Ah, ah, ah…”
I started coming uncontrollably hard, my walls squeezing against his thumb embarrassingly.
It was the most wonderful thing I’d ever known as molten heat spread throughout my whole body and he kept going… and going… and going… feasting, his tongue tireless, his hunger unrelenting.
Eventually it got so painful, I had to fight him to close my legs and I rolled into the foetal position, shaking all over.
“I’m satisfied. Get the fuck off me,” I shouted, and he chuckled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him wiping his mouth with two fingers, a big smile on his face.
“I told you you’d regret it.”
“Sorry, but no. I don’t think so.”
“Next time, I’ll make you beg harder. Nothing else will ever be good enough now.”
“I’m not an addict and I can make this memory last forever, Dante. I could live happily off this memory forever and ever and ever–” I lay there still panting, subconsciously aware of his hand on my lower back, caressing me gently.
“Ciara, you’re–”
I remembered nothing else; I passed out.
It had been a taxing day.
Five
WHEN THE COLD LIGHT OF day greeted me the morning after, I almost regretted what I’d done the night before. Almost. I’d offered myself like a brazen slut but how else was I going to get anything done around here? I’d waited long enough.
No regrets aside, I woke groggy and in pain. I remembered calling out in agony a few times in the night but Dante was always there to hush me before going back to his own bed.
“Dante?” I groaned, again sounding like I was in pain.
I was.
“I’m here, Ciara.”
I shifted and followed his voice to the chaise longue opposite the bed where he had obviously been sat watching me sleep. Gradually my vision cleared and he took my breath away, his slim, lithe form sharp as steel in a pristine charcoal suit.
“Where’d the suit come from?”
“Sexton delivered it this morning.”
“Ah.”
I wrestled myself out of bed and walked to the en suite where I peed with the door closed.
“We’re meant to be in Paris today,” I said, raising my voice a little so he’d hear me above the echoes of what was hitting the pan.
Wearing just the pyjama top still I realised how ridiculous I looked and unbuttoned it, tossing it on my washing pile in the corner.
“I don’t think we should go,” he hollered through, “you need rest after cutting yourself open.”
Before I left the en suite I stood naked, and paused, contemplating my robe on the door hook.
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