Page 35 of The Devil's Pawn

This time, I’m the one with my hand reaching up toward him, the stubble on his jaw grazing my palm. I stare deeply into his eyes, my thumb running across his lips, wanting badly to feel them.

“How about I show you?”

And then I do. I capture his lips with mine, and the most erotic growl erupts from this man as his hand slams to the back of my head, the music long forgotten. Our lips part in a frenzy, his tongue stroking mine in hurried circles, hands clawing at our clothes.

My long fingernails land on the back of his shirt, yanking the navy button-down out from beneath his black pants as his mouth sucks on my tongue while I moan. My nails rake up his back; the feel of his smooth skin on my fingertips has my heart pounding and body screaming for more. He groans as I let my nails sink in deeper, loving this side of myself I never knew existed.

His hands are under my ass, and I’m lifted into the air, my thighs coming around his waist. Our lips are unbreakable as the kiss grows more intense, and I’m unsure where he ends and I begin. He lowers me onto the cool grass, his thick cock rubbing circles over my achy clit through the thin shroud of my panties.

“Touch me,” I beg, my voice so needy I barely recognize it. “I want to feel your hands on me.”

It’s stupid. I know that. I’ll grow attached.

But right now, my rational side is gone. I want Dante like my every breath is his and his every breath is mine.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his brows bowed with wanton hunger.

“You don’t seem like the type of man to ask for permission.”

“I’m not.” He brushes his lips over mine. “But I’m asking, baby.”

“Touch me, please. I’ve never wanted to be touched by anyone as badly as I want to be touched by you.”

“Fuck,” he growls through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, his hand slowly glides from my knee up to my inner thigh. A finger hooks into my thong, roughly yanking it to the side, exposing me to the whisk of cool air.

“I’ve been thinking of this pussy ever since I met you.”

“Yes,” I whimper as he rubs two fingers on each side of my wet slit, careful to avoid my clit.

“I’ve wondered how you like to be fucked,” he continues. “Rough? Gentle? Both?”

The tip of his finger invades me, easing an inch inside.

My breathing intensifies as my walls clench around him.

“I’ve wanted to know how you taste.” He lowers his mouth to my neck, teasing my earlobe with his teeth as he enters me fully, sliding in and out slowly.

“Dante, please,” I groan with desperation.

“Mmm, I like how my name sounds on those pretty lips.” He circles his finger inside me. “Say it again, and this time tell me how you want it.”

His lips leave kisses down my neck as he stretches me with another finger.

“Yes, just like that! Fuck me how you fuck the other women,” I beg, knowing I’m soaking his fingers.

“There are no women but you, wife.” He thrusts in and out, harder this time, hitting my G-spot so deeply that stars flicker before my eyes. “Now tell me, how should I make you come?”

My heart races, the intense way I’m turned on giving me strength to tell him what I really want.

“With your mouth,” I confess. “With your fingers. Hard. I want…I’ve never…”

But before I can tell him that the three guys I’ve slept with in the past have not been rough at all, that I want someone to be, my thighs are in the air and over his shoulders and his face is a centimeter away from my pussy.

“If rough is what you want, baby, I can give you that.” Without looking away from me, he reaches his long tongue out, taking a slow swipe from my entrance right up to my sensitive clit.

I rattle under him, my moans a mix of whimpers. It’s been years since a man’s gone down on me. My God, I’ve missed this.

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