Page 151 of A Forgotten Promise

I must be still dazed and slow from my sleep. “What do you mean? We missed it?”

He nods and takes my hand, kissing my knuckles. “The dress can come off now.” He traces my skin around the rumpled bow.

While my pussy is totally on the same page as him, how can he think about that right now? “Corm, that deal was important to you. You’ve been waiting for that event for weeks.”

“I know.” He tugs at the bow, and the strap comes off my shoulder. He leans in, peppering my neckline with kisses.

My mind is now hazy from my sleepandfrom his gentle assault. I try to push him away. “You missed an important meeting, so I can sleep. That deal—”

“No deal is as important as your well-being. You needed to sleep.”

Oh my poor heart. Jesus, I love this man.

I love him. The emotion sneaks up on me, unbidden. I need to tell him.

“Would you focus on getting that dress off, finally, The Morrigan?” He yanks at the hem of the neckline and my breasts spring out, the nipples already hard and yearning for his touch.

“Wait. I need to tell you something.”

It would be the first time, and I don’t want it to sound like an in-the-heat-of-the-moment statement.

He wraps his lips around my nipple, kneading the other one in his hand. God, I missed this. I missed his touch. My body is immediately aflame. It’s not even heat I’m feeling. It’s an inferno.

“Corm,” I moan. I don’t know if I’m moaning to stop him or to urge him to continue.

He pulls at the hem of the skirt, but it’s too tight. “We agreed we don’t care about this dress, didn’t we?”

Not really, but I don’t get to protest, because he doesn’t wait and rips the skirt apart.

Everything else happens in the frenzy of touch and feel. Give and take. Control and surrender.

He sheds his jacket, and I undo his pants. He tears off the bodice of the dress, and it ends up discarded on the car’s floor.

“Fuck, I missed this pussy, baby.”

He spreads my legs so wide, I fear he might dislocate my hip joint. He blows air between my thighs where I’m already embarrassingly soaked. It triggers a series of shivers, my back arching away from the leather seat.

“This pussy is mine.” He kisses me there, and then continues kissing me up my torso.

“All parts of me are yours.” This will have to do for now instead of the L word.

He looks at me and abandons the languid assault, capturing my lips. “Sorry, baby, but I have to fuck you rough and fast first. It’s been too long.”

“Then stop talking,” I tease, but it comes out with the same desperation that he oozes.

He arches his eyebrow, like I should be careful what I wish for, lines his cock at my entrance, and drives in.

We growl, and for a beat we still.

“The most tantalizing pussy in the world, Saar,” he grunts. “Gripping my cock so well, baby.”

And then he moves, and fuck, rough and fast doesn’t even cover the intensity.

His belt is scratching my thigh. Our moans fill the car. The leather beneath me is sticky. Nothing about this feels sensual or attractive.

It’s animalistic. It’s wild. It’s savage.

Exactly what I need. I’m weightless and floating. Completely at his mercy, surrendering and cruising so high, I don’t even know if I’m still in this dimension.

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