Page 138 of Consume Me

“What is my girl thinking about that makes her look sad?” he asks me, eyes fully focused on me. To be the center of his heady attention is sweet torment.

“You look like that and I…”

A muscle tics in his jaw, his lips pressed into a hard line.

My head lowers, a wave of insecurity crashes over me.

“Mia, look at me.”

I lift my chin, and he says, “You’re my personal wet dream. I am fucking hard in a damn sauna. I love your softness. I love that I can dig my fingers into your skin and leave my damn prints on it. I am mad about every perfect inch of you.”

He takes my hand and puts it on his erection to prove his point. Not that it wasn’t visible. He’s that freaking big, my pussy deserves a medal for taking it.

I look at the small roll my belly makes and sigh. Suddenly, he gets onto his knees in front of me and kisses along my belly, nipping at the skin.

“You are my damn fantasy come to life. Never let me hear you say something bad aboutmybody. You’re mine, and what I say goes. You’re beautiful and sexy. Scratch that, you’re gorgeous. Fucking stunning. I salivate at just the thought of putting my hands on you,” he says, deep with resolution.

What do you say to that? Thank you would sound pretty pathetic, but I still say it because he makes me feel beautiful. And what a wonderful feeling it is.

“Don’t thank me. Say you believe me.”

He doesn’t stop, does he? He already has everything I have to give, but I learn my feelings for him run deeper than an endless well.

“I believe you. It’syourbody, after all,” I sass, and he smirks.

“Exactly. Never forget it.”

We stay in the sauna until sweat rolls down our bodies, and others join us. When a nice elderly gentleman tries to chat with me a bit too much, Blake grabs my hand and leads us out, mumbling under his breath.

“Tell me you’re not jealous of someone who is older than my father?”

“He didn’t have a fatherly look on his face. The fucker.” He looks back, wearing a dangerous look, and this time, it’s me who pulls him away and into the showers.

Heading back to our hotel suite, Blake pushes me against the bed, rips our bathrobes off, and pounces on me.

I always come at least two times when we have sex, so I am used to him fucking me until I see freaking stars dance before my eyes. Add to that the touch of jealousy and possessiveness that man ignited in Blake, he will fuck me boneless.

“I won’t be gentle,” he says as he tears at my bikini.

“Don’t be then. I’m yours.” Those words register with him, making that blazing fire in his eyes soften, but only for a moment before he thrusts into me.

“Grip the headboard.”

I hold on because he takes me on a wild ride I never want to get off.

By the time he tires and comes, he has fucked me into oblivion all over this room: on the bed from behind, with my back against the window, in the armchair with me riding him.

Three orgasms later—for me—he grows bigger inside of me, the muscles in his neck straining as he throws his head back and lets out a groan of satisfaction.

I am spent by the time we finish. Blake tends to me in the tub, melting me with his gentle touches and care as he shampoos my hair and washes my body. Adored, cherished, and worshipped—that’s how he makes me feel.

My stomach grumbles, and just then, there’s a knock on our door. While I put the robe on, Blake grabs a towel from the rack, wraps it around his waist, and opens the door for the staff member, who pushes the tray inside.

After he places the food on the table, Blake tips him, and we dig right in. There are appetizers, a burger with fries, linguine on a bed of mushrooms and garlic, and a chocolate fountain with various sliced fruits including bananas, strawberries, and apples.

I am so full I could roll to bed, but Blake carries me. He sets me down, wraps me in his arms and sleep finds me.

I don’t know if I am dreaming, but if I am, I don’t want to wake up. I want to live in this dreamlike state forever.

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