Page 17 of The Don's Proposal

Unable to help myself, I reach forward and pull at one of the strings. It easily comes undone.

I’m going to wake her up in one of the best ways possible. She just doesn’t have a clue. When she stirs as I part her thighs hoping to make enough room for me, I’m too focused on sinking my fingers in the band of the sweats. Far too big for her, the knot was the only thing keeping them secure.

“What are you doing?” She blinks slowly, her lids heavy from sleep. She lifts her hips for me, helpful without realizing it. Once I’m leaving nothing but bare skin, her eyes are snapping open. “Wait!”

Spreading her thighs, I’m too focused on the damp spot on her underwear. “Hm?”

“What are you doing?” Repeating the question, she shivers when I tease the fabric with my thumb. My finger is already wet, she’ssoaked. She must’ve had one hell of a dream.

“I’m trying to make my way toward tasting your pussy.” The truth rolls out of me with no hesitation. “Right now, I’m considering whether I want to keep these panties or ruin them because they’re in my way.” Leaning in, I take a deep inhale and groan inwardly. “Spoil me, Camellia. Tell me how wet you are beneath these damn things.”

The way her skin instantly flushes, I’m confident she’ll try to lie to me and insist she’s as dry as the Sahara desert. Instead, she chews on her bottom lip and squirms.

She wants to give in. I can see the fight behind her eyes. She has to give in. If she doesn’t, it’ll be the death of me.

Leaning in, I encourage her by pressing my tongue against the thin strip separating me from my next meal. Just the taste of her essence is enough to make me grow impatient.

“I-I’m…” Her voice wobbles and her hips betray her by jerking toward my chin. “It’s your fault. I can’t get away from you even when I sleep.”

She’s dreamed of me, in a way that’s left her in this state. Fuck me.

I opt to tear the panties. I can buy her as many pairs as she wants. Anything to see the most glistening, perfect pink pussy lips I’ve seen in my life.

“Part your thighs. Make me feel bad for the damage done.” I don’t recognize my voice as the words leave my lips. There’s this desperation to taste her, to make her come against my sheets. I need it, need her to want it as badly as I do. This isn’t a punishment I can suffer alone. “Let me properly apologize for bothering you.”

God, her cheeks can turn so pink. I’m starting to wonder if making this woman blush will become my new goal in life. I want to see how the rest of her body looks when she gets flushed as well.

“We don’t have to tell anyone. You can keep pretending you’re dreaming.” Shifting backward to make enough room to settle on my stomach, my eyes settle on these glistening folds. Can’t help but lick my lips. Every time I think Camellia can’t get any better, she does.

Her knees shake, but she parts them. Her thighs flex beneath my touch as I squeeze her plumpness.

“Just like that.” Humming my approval, I graze her clit with my thumb and she jerks. “Have you always been this sensitive, or am I one lucky bastard?”

“I haven’t–” She stops, and her brows knit together. “I can’t help it, that’s all.”

“Don’t change.” Leaning in, I kiss her thigh and make it quiver. “Stay just the way you are.”

Her stomach flexes, and she takes in a sharp breath. Her eyes grow wide and for a moment, I forget what I’m doing.

With the darkness gone, I can truly appreciate their brilliant blue hue, reminiscent of a sparkling ocean I’d swim laps in. They’re unique, and I love them. How many times will I get lost in them?

I’ll have to keep some distance from her during the day. Otherwise, not just those eyes will be a distraction. I won’t be able to get any work done. We can make up whatever time we lose together during times like these.

Look at me, planning around her and dreading the in between.

“Promise me you’re not just saying what I want to hear.” Her lips press together in a flat line, but the demand for the truth is there. I’m not known as a man who can be trusted enough to keep a promise, but there’s something there, something I don’t understand that makes her need to hear the words.

For once, there’s weight behind her words. Her eyes search mine, and I know I couldn’t lie to her even if I wanted to hide my upcoming weaknesses.

“I mean it, Camellia. From the pit of my ruined soul. I want you, just like this. Spread open like an offering. Bashful and willing. I promise.” Tired of talking, I keep my eyes on hers as I part her lips and lean in. With high expectations, I flatten my tongue against her clit and suck the small nub between my lips.

The moan that leaves her lips vibrates through me. I feel it seeping deep into my bones. My chest rumbles with satisfaction, and I think I’ve discovered my new favorite flavor.

She tastes exactly as I expect her to. Much like honey, my tongue savors the sweetness before delving deep to experience her essence at the source.

Her thighs clamp against my ears, and the next moan that leaves her lips is muffled and hoarse. When her fingers dig through my hair, I expect her to try and pull me away. Instead, she tugs me closer and lifts her hips. She’s a natural.

Soon enough, I can feel the tightness of her walls as I delve deeper with my tongue. I’m tempted to ask, but I’m confident that I know the answer.

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