Page 28 of Knocked up By the Minotaur

“You taste divine,” he half-murmurs, half-groans quietly. “I’m yours, sweetness. Anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“A hundred thousand dollars and an orgasm,” I somehow manage to quip, despite the desire rolling through me, muddling my thoughts.

He laughs huskily and pulls my hips flush against his. “Alright.”

I roll my eyes and smirk, knowing he’s absolutely not going to give me a hundred thousand dollars, but liking the way he so easily agreed anyway, as if my wish is his command. Another wave of tension washes through me as his fingers tighten at my waist, and then trails forward until he’s running his knuckles up and down my abdomen. I want to straddle his lap, to grind my core against his thickness that I can feel through the side of my leg, but my short dress won’t not allow me such a move without turning into a shirt, so I remain sitting on him side-saddle style.

“Would you like to stay here longer?” he asks, his eyes riveted to mine as his fingers pull lower and lower.

Once more, his promise to make me come in public shoots through my thoughts, and my breath hitches as I consider it.

Do I really want that? Or has it just been so long since I felt truly good during intimacy, that I’m leaping at the first opportunity?

Screw it, only one way to find out. I’m feeling reckless all of a sudden, and I’m done with being a good little woman.

Biting my lip, I nod and take his hand to place it on my thigh, just under the hemline of my little black dress. I swear he stops breathing for a second, his eyes darting down to where I hold his fingers, before shooting back to me, dark with a flare of desire. I push his hand further up my thigh.

“Gods and above,” his voice dips lower, sounding rougher, as he sits abruptly back up and presses his lips to my neck. “You are so fucking sexy.”

Adrenaline rushes through me as his hand squeezes hard against my skin, his fingers shifting up as he nuzzles along my neck. Am I really going to do this? Have I gone crazy?

I feel the warm dart of his tongue against me, and my thoughts fade away as I arch my back. He suckles at my neck, his tongue and lips working along my skin, building up that coil of tingling pleasure inside me, and I curl my arms around his neck again.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he grates out, before he pulls back to look at me. “Because otherwise, I will not.”

How does everything he say manage to turn me on more?

I kiss him, because I don’t know what else to do with the build up inside me at his words. It’s been so longsince I felt this good, this desired and aroused, and I find that I’m throwing myself into this moment as if it’s something special.

And maybe it is. I’ve never felt so free and alive.

He kisses me back, that clever tongue of his starting up a rhythm that makes me wonder just what it can do when applied lower. I want to snake my arms into his shirt, but I’m dimly aware of the buzzing around us, the gentle hum of chatter and the beat of jazz reverberating through the speakers, and I settle for dipping my fingers into the neckline of his shirt. He feels silky, the short down of brown fur that seems to cover his entire body like velvet beneath my fingers. It makes me want to run my hands over his entire body to see if the texture is the same everywhere.

He shifts beneath me, his hand coming to my cheek as he once more pulls away, before throwing his previously discarded jacket over my shoulders. His eyes are all desire as he settles back into the sofa once more, but there’s a small, mischievous smile on his lips, and he pulls me down to rest sideways against his chest, so that his jacket covers us from view.

“You surprise me, Grace,” he murmurs, trailing slow circles up my inner thigh. “This is much naughtier than I expected from you.”

“It was your idea,” I huff quietly, shifting my hips involuntarily at the sparks that fly through me when he grazes lightly against my panties.

He bites his lip through his grin as he watches me, and offers me a long, sensual swipe from seam to clit. “Yes,” he says huskily. “It was. And I’m going to enjoy every second of this.”

I open my mouth to reply, but just then a waitress appears beside us, and I jerk in surprise.

“Charcuterie board for the couple,” she says, and I try to turn and sit up, but Oli’s arms clamp around me, holding me firmly in place as he begins a deliberate rhythm against my clit. My mouth falls open as a zing of pleasure and shock lances through me, and my thighs involuntarily squeeze his hand tightly in place.

“Thank you,” Oli says, as calm as anything. His slides his finger to sit beside my clit, and begins to make small, quick circles as he speaks. “Leave it in the middle of the table, if you will.”

I clear my throat, trying to keep my face blank and my body still. I’m responding to Oli’s ministrations in an amplified way as the waitress turns her gaze towards me, and my heart rate ratchets up in my chest.

“Is everything alright, ma’am?”

I try to respond, but Oli quickens his fingers and all I can do is fist my hand against his shirt, beneath the jacket covering us.

“She’s just a little cold,” he responds for me casually. “We’re alright.”

“I can bring another heater over?”

“What do you think, darling?” Oli turns dark, amused eyes my way, and finally slips his finger away, giving me a moment of relief as he trails it down the side of my panties. “Shall we get a heater?”

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