Page 14 of Beautiful & Dirty

I’m panting as he backs away. He spears me in his gaze, and then I watch as Salvatore lifts his wet fingers to his mouth. Wet with me.

He moans around his fingers. “You taste wonderful, bella. I knew you would.”

I blush all over; no part of my skin has escaped the flush of lust I feel when he looks at me. And now I don’t want to wait. I toe off my shoes and shimmy fully out of my jeans. My movements are hurried and desperate because that’s exactly how I feel. I want to fuck Salvatore so bad I’m clumsy with need.

I can see that he feels the same, but his self-control is so much better than mine, and fuck if that isn’t the sexiest thing ever.

As I edge my ass onto the table behind me, Salvatore calmly undoes his cufflinks and begins to unbutton his shirt, watching me. It’s a slow, erotic torture that lets me know that he’s in charge, and it’s perfect.

I lift one foot onto the table and spread my legs wide. His mouth widens into the brightest smile I’ve seen from him yet, obliterating the lingering shadows of guilt in his eyes, and then his gaze narrows to my sex.

I lean back onto my left hand and move my right between my legs, rubbing the wet patch of cotton there in slow circles, teasing myself while Salvatore undresses.

“I wish I had time to feast on you,” he murmurs more to himself than to me.

“I wish you did, too. But you do have time to fuck me,” I gently prod.

Salvatore’s steps and hands still. “Are you taking control now?” he asks, the playful smile on his face almost hidden by his beard.

I suck in a slow breath, my heart racing and my body thrumming, the pads of my fingers caressing the wet gusset of my underwear. “Would you let me take control?” I ask.

His eyelids lower, and his tongue darts between his lips as if he’s chasing the taste of me.

“No,” he says simply, and my back spasms with a small tremor, a whisper of a release. “But if we had enough time, I’d let you try and convince me that I should.”

I groan lightly at those heated words because I wonder what that negotiation might entail. I wonder if he would negotiate his fist in my curls and his dick in my mouth and still tell me no. I wonder if I could make him come around to handing over the reins while making a seat on his mouth.

I wonder why we don’t have more time, and so does he. I can see his eyes fill with regret.

I push my hand into my underwear, and now it’s his lust that chases away sadness.

At some point, my life became a predictable mess where each week was nearly identical to the last, and my future nothing more than the promise of the same, with Steve by my side. Maybe a year or two ago, that security had been comforting, but now I just feel dead inside.

Well, not right now. Right now, Salvatore’s hands are moving up my thighs from my knees to grip my hips. Right now, I feel like there’s a thunderstorm inside me, and Salvatore’s directing the current of it all over my skin, and I realize I never want to go back to predictable, boring mess.

“Take me out,” he says. “Put me inside you.”

I gasp. How can I not? Each new command is sexier than the last, but this one? I think this one will stay with me longer than the others. I’ll remember it when I fuck myself with my vibrator and my fingers. I’ll remember it the next time I deign to let someone else inside me. I’ll remember how I felt when he commanded me to take control, to decide when he entered me, and how I became someone new because of it.

There’s no way I’ll ever be able to forget that.

But I’m also too horny to slow down and really appreciate this moment; again, we just don’t have enough time. My hands are shaking as I pull that very expensive belt open. The sides of my hands brush against his erection, and his fingers tighten around my hips, but otherwise, he doesn’t react. It’s my breath that hitches and me who starts to pant. It’s my chest that’s rising and falling with excitement. And it’s my moan that rends the quiet storeroom once my palm wraps around his thick, hard length.

I stroke him up and down, squeezing rhythmically as I do, until eventually — finally — his panting breaths join mine. His hands are gripping me tight enough to bruise, and I love it. I lift my eyes to his and moan when we make eye contact. I can see that he wants me to stop playing with him, but he doesn’t push me; instead, he bites his lips and digs his fingers into my flesh and endures it, waiting for me.

I deserve this, I think to myself.

I scoot forward on the table and spread my legs as wide as they can go. Both of our heads turn down to see the blunt tip of his dick perfectly poised to enter me. We don’t have time to waste, but I stop here. I let us both memorize this moment for a few seconds, imprinting the image of the mushroom head at my opening, damp with my arousal, before I grab his hip with my other hand and pull him closer.

We both groan when his dick brushes against my wet lips and then taps at my opening.

Salvatore leans forward and nudges my nose with his until I lift my head to lock eyes with him. “Are you ready, bella?” he whispers against my lips.

I squeeze his hip and pull him forward, and he pushes inside of my wet, pulsing pussy. I’ve never been more ready.

His breath hisses out, and I lick a wet path across his bottom lip, tasting that uncharacteristic crack in his armor.

He groans low in his throat and then takes the reins from me.

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