Seven Nights of Sin - Lacey Alexander [40]
His gaze narrowed on her hotly. “Too bad.” Then he scooted toward her in the tub. “Stay where you are. That sweet little taste of your pussy made me want more.”
“Oh,” she murmured, just as he leaned in to rake his tongue firmly up the center of her parted folds. Then, “Ohhh…”
The pleasure was almost overwhelming as he licked her again and again, from bottom to top, as if her cunt were an ice cream cone. “God, oh God,” she heard herself breathe as she involuntarily began to move against his mouth. “God, yeah.”
Soon, Damon lifted his hand from the water and eased two wet fingers into her already soaked opening, giving her the sense of having him inside her. It wasn’t his cock, of course, but his fingers were nice, too, especially when he began sliding them in and out in time with her undulations.
She watched him, amazed at the rawness of what she saw—again, she usually did this in the dark, and she wasn’t used to looking at it, looking at a man going down on her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever witnessed such an erotic sight.
That’s when a glance up from Damon, his face buried so sensually between her legs, reminded her of the mirrors lining the walls on two sides of the tub. They afforded her a view not only of her lover but of herself—with a man’s head moving between her parted thighs, her hips lifting slightly to meet him. Witnessing the passion etched across her own face, she felt as if she were in a porn movie come to life.
Next, she looked across the room, into the larger mirror over the vanity. Yet another view. Damon’s thick dark hair. Her legs spread wide. Her breasts bouncing slightly with her motions.
When Damon’s attention narrowed, focusing more tightly on her clit, her breath came heavier, the pleasure building at her center. His skilled tongue swirled about the engorged nub, each move sending a fresh burst of heat exploding through her. The change drew her gaze from the mirrors back down to Damon, whose eyes were on her. He’d seen her watching them in the glass.
His mouth latched onto her clit then, pulling it inside, and his tongue thrust at it hard. Oh God, the rough ministrations made her clench her teeth, her arms and legs growing weak. She kept her eyes on his now, never wavering, and without planning it, she began to show him exactly how dirty she could be. “Suck me, baby,” she whispered hotly. “Suck my clit. Suck it hard. Suck it. Suck it.”
Her naughty demands were the last thing she remembered before the orgasm hit, hard and fast, coming on before she even expected it. Arching her neck in response to the intense waves of sensation, she cried out softly as she drove her pussy against his mouth—yes, yes, yes—soaking in every pulse of pleasure to be had.
When it finally ebbed, she went still and Damon eased back from her. “You’re fucking gorgeous when you come,” he said from amid the bubbles, his eyes sparkling darkly.
Still breathing hard, she managed a smile. “Then you should make that happen often.”
“I intend to.”
In that moment, it struck her that their words were the kind that might be exchanged between people in an actual relationship, one that would last, go on—but she knew he only meant he intended to while they were in Vegas, and she brushed aside any hint of disappointment that might have produced to resume concentrating on the sexy, naked man in front of her.
“Can I come into the tub now?” she asked, allowing a teasing bit of sarcasm to color her voice.
He offered a slow, sexy grin, then reached for her hand. “Come on in, dirty girl, and let me clean you up.”
Once she was in the tub, facing him, her legs crossing over his beneath the water, Damon reached for the two wineglasses next to her shoes, passing her one.
“Where’d you get this?” she asked.
“Minibar,” he replied, then lifted his glass in a toast. “To my dirty little Brenna—who surprises me more every day.”
She liked that, she thought, clinking her glass against