Page 35 of Black Velvet

I exhale audibly when he places his hand on my hip. It's an innocent gesture, not much different than what you'd see between dance partners. But his touch holds a promise, a promise that speaks louder when he moves his hand to my lower belly, only tasting my skin with the tip of his fingers as he journeys lower.

This is the sweetest kind of torture. I want to scream, I want to jump at him, kiss him, feel his strong arms wrapping around me, and his undoubtedly monstrous cock swelling and burrowing inside me.

"What will I find if I continue, Elene?"

I swallow.Don't say my name like that. Not now. It stirs me in ways I can't control. Instead of answering him, I gasp for air, trying to control my impatient hunger.

"Are you wet for me?"

I nod, pressing my lips together but keeping my eyes on him, just as I've been told to do. Looking at him now, I notice for the first time that his smile is somewhat crooked, always colored with mischief, mystery, especially now.

"Let me check," he growls.

I almost faint when his hand moves further, cupping my mound before parting my lips with two fingers. He barely traces my clit, but I'm so sensitive, so fucking turned on, that his touch is like an explosion. A hissing sound escapes my lips when I react to his intrusion, but he continues, sliding between my folds with ease.

"Damn, Elene," he comments. "What a naughty, naughty girl you are."

He can't make me come. I know he can't. No one ever has been able to. But this feels so fucking good. I squirm, openly disobeying his rules while he finger-fucks me with one at first, then two. He places his other hand at the back of my head, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling my head back. My eyes threaten to shut as I give into his intrusive touch. I groan when he uses a third finger to massage my swollen, tender nub. The sensation is too phenomenal for words. I'm trapped in hot vertigo, losing control of my muscles. My lips part as I pant for air, my eyes rolling back into my head, but he keeps working my throbbing core with skills that surpass any I have ever known.

No, he can't make me come like this. It's impossible. He can't.He shouldn't.

But he does.

I'm flying, floating on a hot stream of pleasure. My core muscles clench around his fingers, begging for him to stay, to make this feeling last forever. Heaves of unbridled joy take hold of me, blinding me in sharp and bright sparks. My throat cords up, holding in the groans of delight that want to escape my quivering body.

I want it to last. I don’t want this ecstatic bliss to come to an end. I want to keep flying, blind and muted by out-of-this-world relish.

But the waves recede, declining from a high of absolute bliss to subtle aftershocks. I try to hold on to every last bit of it.

His grip tightens around me, one arm wrapping around my upper body while he cups my still throbbing core with his other hand. My legs yield and I sink into his embrace.

Chapter 21

Damon

I didn't plan to make her come, but she climaxed so beautifully in my arms that I don't regret it. I've never had to restrain myself this hard. My cock is throbbing painfully, hard with need for her, and it took all my willpower not to give in. I could have fucked her. I could have had her right then and there. I could have parted her wet lips when she was bent over, exposing herself for me and glistening with desire. I could see that she was ready for me before I felt it. I could tell by the way her small chest was heaving and her cheeks were flushed. She was so responsive, so willing to take what I was going to give her. Teasing her was like conducting an orchestra—every note I evoked from her produced an exquisite melody, echoing through the empty room.

She's perfect. I couldn't help but follow where her body guided me. She may feel different, but it wasn't me who led the way. It was all her. The way she reacted to me was all the guidance I needed.

As soon as her professional persona was replaced by pure and raw honesty, I was defenseless against her allure. Knowing that she has been a professional for years only increased the feeling of power when I saw her losing it under my command. Her arousal, her heavy breathing, the beautiful flush on her cheeks, the hot, silky wetness between her legs—none of it was fake, nothing an act. That was all her.

However, the way she now melts in my arms surprises me. It looks as if she may have even lost consciousness for a moment there, her muscles loosening after she tensed up during her climax, and her knees succumbing to her weight. She would have fallen to the ground if I hadn't caught her.

"Hey, hey," I say, trying to catch her gaze, but her eyes are closed as her head lolls back.

I carefully lower her down on the carpet, and I’m just about to lay her flat on her back when she gasps and her eyes fly open. Sweat pearls down her temple, and she looks utterly lost and confused, her blue eyes still foggy when she looks up at me.

"Oh, shit, I'm so s—"

"Hush," I cut her off. "You know I hate that."

She blinks hesitantly, trying to find her bearings. "Yes... yes, but... no!"

She frees herself from my embrace and makes an attempt to get back up on her feet, but I hold her back by the shoulders, forcing her to sit down on the carpet.

"Sit," I command. "Just for a moment."

She sighs and dabs at her face, trying to get rid of the beading sweat without ruining her makeup. She's shaking and looking so vulnerable that it's hard for me to believe she's been working as an escort girl for years. This look on her is so different than the one she displays when she's on duty.

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