Page 9 of Sinful Sacrifice

He chuckles connivingly, as if he doesn't believe me.

Edging closer, he brushes his lips along my ear. “Then, dance for me, Pippa.”

Nerves flutter in my belly as I slightly flex my hips. He cups my waist, rolling me forward and then back. I gasp, my legs tightening when I feel his erection brush my core.

Damien might’ve told me to dance for him, but he’s made himself the director of the show. He guides me slowly, wanting me to experience every inch of him.

I moan and hold his shoulders when he shifts his weight, providing me a better angle to slide against his cock.

A hiss escapes him when he moves me faster.

Faster.

Faster.

Showing me what he likes.

Showing me what I like.

I lose our rhythm when he releases me.

He splays his arms along the couch. “Now, you dance for me.”

I rotate my hips forward, desperate to feel his length against my core until the end of days. My blood is on fire at the realization that this is no simple ballet dance.

A long moan escapes me, knocking me back into reality.

I stop. “We need music.”

He prevents me from climbing off his lap. “Your moans will be our music.”

“Someone sure is arrogant.”

“It’s not arrogant when you know it’s true.”

His hands find my waist again, and he resets our pace.

I desperately dry-hump him while he lifts his hips, meeting me thrust for thrust. I’m so in my zone that I don’t stop him when he lowers my tank, exposing my bra.

And now, we’ve surpassed lap-dance level.

He yanks my tank off, unclasps my bra, and tosses it on the floor in one swift motion. I gasp when he cups his hands over my breasts.

Hands so big that they cover them completely.

Palms so cold that my nipples immediately harden beneath them.

My heart is on fire, and I keep our pace, my skin silently pleading for more of his touch.

He doesn’t ask for permission before lowering his head and flicking my nipple with his tongue. Or when he takes it in his mouth, sucking it. I tip my head back as he swipes my hair off my shoulder to do the same with my other nipple.

His soft lips glide along my skin to the middle of my chest, where he sucks deep on the skin as if wanting to form a bruise. When he pulls back, I push his blazer off his shoulders, dragging it off his arms. It lands in a pile beside him.

“You’re fucking beautiful, Pippa.” His cock jerks as he smooths his thumb over my cheek.

He speaks like we’ve known each other forever.

Like he took an oath to always protect me.

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