Page 25 of Dallas
I keep pushing against his hand as discreetly as possible, but it doesn’t do anything. He’s too strong to budge. I’m going to chastise him as soon as I get the opportunity.
Claire’s eyes are drooping as we finish dessert, and Ryder excuses them before lifting her into his arms, cradling her against his chest, and carrying her from the dining room. She calls out a soft good night over his shoulder as they go.
The second we are alone, Dallas reaches the last inch to stroke his fingers through my folds.
Even though I should have expected this to happen, I find myself gripping the edge of the table as my head falls back. I moan so loudly that it startles me.
Dallas chuckles and removes his fingers. “Let’s go upstairs so I can take care of you without Gretchen walking in.” He removes his hand and shoves his chair back.
Take care of me… God, I hope he intends to finally let me come because I’m about to do so from the one stroke of his fingers he’s graced me with.
My legs are unsteady when I rise, and I nearly drop back onto my sore butt on the chair, but Dallas grabs my arm to steady me, his usual smirk in place. He keeps one arm around my waist and the other on my bicep as he leads me out of the dining room and up the ornate main staircase.
I haven’t been in this part of the house yet. It’s stunning. I could stand in the enormous foyer and admire the intricate architecture for an hour if I weren’t too horny to see straight.
As soon as we’re in Dallas’s room, he shuts and locks the door once again. He leads me to the bed, cups my face, and kisses me sweetly. “You’re going to marry me,” he murmurs against my lips.
I sigh. He’s probably right, but I can’t focus on that absurd idea right now. I tip my head to the side, giving him better access to my neck as he kisses a path toward my ear.
He gently grazes my earlobe with his teeth. “I’m going to take this dress off and kiss every inch of this delectable body until you come so many times you know you’re mine.”
I shiver. I want that. Damn the consequences. I want his mouth on me. On all of me.
He grabs the hem of my dress and yanks it over my head so fast I don’t have time to process the fact that I’m nearly naked, and then, seconds later, he removes my bra, too, deftly unhooking the back and dragging it down my arms. He lifts me by the hips and deposits me on the bed.
Dallas leaves me close to the edge for my legs to hang off, but his hands are on my knees immediately. He spreads them wide, opening me entirely to his gaze.
My instinct is to cover myself. I’m flushed with embarrassment. But Dallas shakes his head when I bring my forearm to my chest and my other hand to my sex. “Do not hide yourself from me, baby. Arms above your head,” he commands.
I whimper as I obey him, feeling so incredibly nervous and exposed.
He hisses out a breath as his gaze lands on my chest. I have full breasts. Too large for my frame. As a teenager, I hated them. As an adult, I realize men stare at them, and it infuriates me sometimes, but the way Dallas is looking at me makes me feel sexy and desirable in a way that is not gross.
“Jesus…” he mutters as he pushes my knees wider. “Arianna…”
I’m breathing heavily as he lets his gaze roam down my body. He stops when he sees my sex, his breath hitching. “You shaved your pussy.”
I swallow. Does he not like it?
He lifts his gaze to meet mine. “When did you shave this, baby?”
“This morning,” I manage to whisper. My heart is pounding.
He slowly smiles. “You’ve never shaved your pretty cunt before?”
I slowly shake my head, beginning to think he doesn’t hate it. I lick my lips. “I thought…”
“You thought what, baby?”
“Women often shave in books. I assumed men liked it.”
“You did it for me.”
I nod.
He leans over and kisses me reverently, right on my pussy. “It’s sexy as fuck, and the thought that you did that for me makes my cock harder than ever.”
I arch my chest when he kisses my sex again. I need more, but I’m not going to tell him that. He knows.
