Page 54 of Sinful Beauty

She drops to her knees and crawls, full breasts swaying, rounded arse in the air. A delectable fever dream.

I am a man on a throne.

She reaches me and plants her palms on my knees. Heat flows across my skin as she pushes those hands forward, rising on her knees. In my chest, the beating thunders. My skin lights with frenetic energy. My cock throbs.

A flirtatious smile crosses her lips. As she tugs on the zipper of my trousers, it hits me she has reclaimed possession of power. She doesn’t need to speak, as I understand her intentions. I lift my hips, helping her to me, willing to do anything for her at this moment.

My mouth dries as she grips my base and swirls her thumb over my tip, then leans forward, her bare breasts brushing across my thighs and her hot mouth takes me in.

Christ. What she can do with that mouth, tongue and teeth.

I’m lightheaded. My palm flattens over her scalp, and my fingers tangle in her hair, gently guiding. She’s absolutely exquisite.

Rays of lighting blur through my eyelids and I tilt my head back, luxuriating in this turn of events. Everything she does to me is absolute divinity. My balls and lower back tighten and my fingers grip her hair. It’s hard to speak but I grunt, “I’m… if…need to.”

Who knows what gibberish flows from my mouth? But the devilish gleam in her eye releases me from guilt when I explode like a scad. Some of my cum spills from her lips, but I’m not done, and she strokes me as we both watch the thick white stream shooting up and down her impertinent hand. She licks the cum that spilled over her lips, her eyes alight in pride, power and mirth.

She’s a complication. Because I don’t want to let this one go. Perhaps this is one time I should have listened to mother. In six short weeks, or likely sooner, I’ll be in another country. Far away from this goddess, and without a doubt, she’s going to rule my dreams.

Chapter20

Lucia

The sheets beneath me are smooth as silk, and the weighted blanket over us is satiny smooth. Through the window, snowflakes fall, twirling around playfully with a backdrop of evergreens.

The wood-burning fire gave out during the night, and Tristan flipped the switch on the gas fireplace. A long line of low orange and blue flames over shiny black glass warms the space, but the palpable warmth is from the furnace wrapped around me, one arm slung over my waist, holding me firmly in place.

At day’s end we’ll return to reality, but if I could wrap a segment of time and cherish it forever in a bottle, this is the morning I would fold in tissue paper and preserve.

To Tristan, this is a night’s escape from the city to a place he considers ho-hum. He’d prefer to stay at the Four Seasons, and this is a second-rate substitute. To him, we’re a step above slumming it. Of course, Tristan has no concept of what the slums are. If he returned with me to São Paulo, I could introduce him.

While he heated the dinner he’d had someone drop off for us, I walked around snapping photos on my phone. I sent them all to Khalani, knowing she’d be as floored by the place as me. He snagged my phone and read through my exchange with her. Instead of mocking me, he simply typed a response to Khalani.

Hi. This is Tristan. Any friend of Lucia’s is a friend of mine, and when you next visit, please let me know. If this property is available, I will gladly arrange for your stay.

Khalani responded appropriately, thanking him for the offer. I had feared she’d threaten him with his life if he hurt me, but she didn’t. While that would be typical behavior for Khalani, even she recognizes that what’s going on here is temporary. That we’re having fun and hearts aren’t in the mix. He’ll soon be in an executive position at the company, and with any luck, it will be my turn to land a new position elsewhere.

Soft lips press to my shoulder and I grin.

“It’s snowing.”

“Mmmm. What a delicious way to wake up.”

I’m not entirely sure he’s referring to the snow. His fingers caress my skin. Curve around my hip bone. At his sensual urging, I roll back closer, giving him easier access while feeling his desire against my lower back.

“Can we stay like this forever?”

“Nothing is forever.” His words might sting, but his lips soften the blow. “But I can promise you we have more mornings like this in our future.” He nips and bits my throat in the areas he’s learned arouse me. “Wrapped in each other.”

My heart is growing increasingly susceptible to this gentleman and his ways. This is temporary. A moment in time. If I repeat the truth frequently enough, my heart will believe it too.

Heat from his fingers encapsulates my sensitive, used tissues. He kneads and teases, taking his time, awakening my need as slowly and surely as the sun rises.

In the short time we’ve been together, he’s become an expert on my body, fingering me with a stunning precision that has me curling forward, legs bending, and muscles tightening as a lazy morning orgasm ignites.

He fondles my breasts, tweaking the nipples, sucking on them so thoroughly he might leave marks and I ambivalent over the prospect. The way I’m feeling on this luxurious morning, he can mark me however he likes.

I could melt into these sheets, lulled into secure self-indulgence. He rolls me on my side, cradles the bend of my leg in his arm, and, with a thrust of his hips, enters me.

---