Page 7 of One Night Seduction

A gruff chuckle leaves his chest as he slaps theside of my ass cheek and winds his other hand around my hair, pulling back sharply.

“Peachy. Now be a good girl and bounce on my cock.”

I begin working my hips, forcing myself to move up and down his length, his piercing rubbing against my g-spot with each thrust. Fuck. I will never fuck a man that isn’t pierced again. This is fucking heaven.

I glance to my side, noticing that the beautiful woman from before is still seated, but the man from her left is now between her legs, eating her pussy, while the man to her right has her top pulled down, exposing her breasts as he sucks on one. All the while her eyes are on me, on us, eyes drenched in lust and pleasure. It sends a tingling shiver running through me and spurs me on to move faster and deeper.

Dom’s grip on my hair shifts slightly before his body pauses, his movements stop, and he seems to almost freeze. I look over my shoulder to see him staring at me intently, jaw clenched and mouth in a flat line.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Your ear.”

“My ear?”

His jaw clenches again. “Your tattoo.”

It takes me a second to realize he’s talking about the tiny sparrow tattoo that I got just behind my ear my senior year of high school. God, my mom came absolutely unglued over it, but I can’t lie, her reaction gave me a small amount of joy. Part of the reason I decided to get it was to piss her off, but the other was because, to me, it was a sign of freedom. I was moving out, going to college, finally on my own and away from her. But since it’s behind my ear, I forget about it from time to time.

“You afraid of birds or something?” I tease.

His eyes bore into mine for several slow beats. He stops forso long my brows knit in confusion. It’s just a tiny tattoo. What? Are tattoos deal-breakers for him or something?

Slowly, his hold on my hair releases, that same hand sliding around to my neck and pulling me back further before crushing his lips to mine. It’s a bit of an awkward angle, but the feeling of his smooth lips on mine and his tongue running against my own is enough to make me forget my own name, let alone a little discomfort.

I feel his thrusts pick back up, a new vigor to them than before. I try to pull away, but he doesn’t allow me to, keeping my lips smashed to his even harder than before.

His cock begins to throb, and I feel my pussy begin to spasm as he finally tears away from my lips, whispering into my ear as he pushes deeper and deeper into me.

“Come for me, Sparrow.”

Something about that nickname, or the way he says it, sends me shattering apart. I buck and scream as his hold on my throat tightens slightly before releasing completely, allowing a fresh wave of oxygen to rush into my lungs. The thrumming in my head only intensifies my orgasm as his cock swells inside me, pleasure filled grunts filling the room as he finds his release.

It takes a few moments for our breathing to settle, and once it does, Dom slowly eases out of me, leaning down to press a tender kiss to my neck. I look over to see most of our audience has begun to dissipate as the show is now over.

“I never thought I could do something like that,” I say more to myself.

“Something like what?” he asks stiffly.

“Something so…exposing.”

I roll onto my back to see Dom already getting dressed, holding out his hand for me to stand. I slide my hand into his large palm, a ripple of something satisfying running through me at the feel of his skin on mine again.

He pulls me to my feet before cupping my face with both his hands, cradling me like I’m something precious as his eyes look through that mask at me.

“You did beautifully. You’re capable of so much.”

“You mean that? I mean, will you, um, show me?” I ask, internally cringing at the sudden uncertainty in my voice. God, who the fuck have I become behind these doors? This is not me, I’m not some bumbling amateur. I’m sure as hell not an innocent little virgin like Naomi. So why am I acting like one?

He watches me carefully for a few moments. He seems to be weighing his options, like he can’t decide if I’m worth seeing a second time. Okay, maybe those are my own insecurities about not being enough, but still.

I open my mouth to say something else, to tell him I was joking, fucking anything that doesn’t make me look as pathetic as I feel. But he surprises me when he leans forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead, his fingers holding my chin in place as he speaks against my skin.

“Meet me here next Saturday, nine o’clock sharp. If you’re on time, I’ll reward you well.”

“And if I’m not?” I test.

His grip on me tightens slightly.

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