Page 46 of Sinclair Duet

Nodding, I reached for the hem of my dress. Despite the freedom from his grasp, my gaze stayed focused on Damien’s. True to his word, his stare never wavered, staying fixed on mine.

“Pull the dress all the way off,” he said as the sound of a zipper filled the air.

A zipper.

My core clenched. I wanted to see what he was doing.

As soon as the dress was over my head, I tried to look down. Before I could, Damien seized my wrists with one hand, in an ironclad grip, and lifted them over my head. His cheeks rose. “I know you’re gorgeous even without looking.” Using the finger of his free hand, he ran a trail from my neck to between my breasts, lower.

His sexy growl ricocheted through me as his finger skirted over my trimmed mound. “Good girl.”

I wasn’t sure if the praise was for not shaving myself bald or for the lack of panties.

A yelp left my lips as he teased my folds and plunged two fingers deep within me.

“So fucking wet.” He pulled his fingers away.

The immediate emptiness left my core clenching at nothing.

“Do you want to come?”

“I do,” I said, not caring that in only two words, the wanton need within me was audible.

Damien released my wrists.

Maintaining the eye contact, I shook my hands, returning circulation.

He pointed from me to him. “Don’t you fucking dare look away.” His arm moved and his expression shifted. “Touch yourself. Make yourself come.”

“I want you.”

“I’m busy.”

Oh my God.

He was pleasing himself.

Jacking off right here in my entry.

“Do it, Ella. I want to watch your expression as you come.”

My lips came together as with one hand I twisted a nipple. The other hand went to my core. My skin grew tight, dampening with perspiration. I didn’t need to penetrate to come. Pushing my clit in circles faster and faster, my breathing stuttered. The scene before me was erotic and intense. I couldn’t see Damien’s cock in his hand, but I knew what he was doing. I knew in the guttural sounds, the morphing of his features, and the way his neck strained.

We were both almost there.

The blaze in his orbs added to the roaring heat pulsating through my veins.

My knees weakened, my spine arched, and wetness coated my thighs.

At the same time, Damien’s roar echoed off the walls. Warm liquid spurted over my breasts and stomach. We both gasped for breath.

“Eyes on me,” he said.

I obeyed.

By the way he was moving, I knew Damien was putting himself back in his jeans while the evidence of our orgasms dripped down my skin.

The air cooled until he leaned forward, tenderly kissing my lips. “Thank you.”

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