Page 43 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad
"You were giving me a show, weren’t you, Flower?"
I stare forward into the mirror, at how his blue eyes blaze as he holds my gaze. His large shoulders block out everything else as he towers over me. He’s dressed in a leather jacket and jeans, heavy motorcycle boots on his feet. His hair is tousled. Did he ride here on his bike? He props his arms on his hips, lowers his gaze to my pussy.
"Keep going," he growls. "Fuck yourself for me."
I stare at his features, slide my fingers in and out of myself. Color sears his cheeks; his nostrils flare. He lowers his hands to his sides, curls his fingers into fists. I press my thumb into my clit; his chest rises and falls. I cup my breast with my other hand and squeeze my nipple.
He inhales sharply.
I work a fourth finger into my channel and my entire body convulses. OMFG. He raises his gaze to meet mine in the mirror, his blue gaze deepening to a shade of almost cerulean.
He reaches around to place his big hand on mine. I shiver. Goosebumps dot my skin.
"Damian," I whisper.
He lowers his head to nuzzle the curve of my shoulder and my belly trembles. "Damian," I gasp again.
"When you say my name like that, it fucking turns me on, you know that?" He presses himself against me and the hard length of his arousal stabs into the curve of my hips. I groan, throw my head back against his chest as he squeezes my arse.
I shudder. "Damian," I whine.
"Don’t stop," he commands.
I swallow, continue to shove my fingers in and out of myself. His hard fingers engulf mine, making the gesture somehow more intimate, like it is him fucking me. He slides the fingers of his other hand into the valley between my butt cheeks and I groan. He pushes a finger into my backhole. I can’t stop the moan that whines from me.
"Damian…please." My fingers tremble and my knees knock together. He tightens his grasp on my hand which is between my legs. The force of it pushes my fingers deeper inside my channel. I gasp. A trembling begins at my toes, flows up my calves, my thighs.
"Oh, Damian," I moan.
"Open your eyes," he orders.
I flutter open my eyelids—when had I closed them, hmm?—meet his gaze in the mirror. His burning blue gaze holds mine.
He presses a kiss to the curve of my neck, then parts his lips and bites down on my skin. Pain pinches my nerve endings, shoots straight to my core. He curls his fingers around mine, pushes them into me, and again. He proceeds to fuck me with my own hand, even as he keeps my backhole plugged with his own. He releases his hold on my neck, only to bend in close. He places his lips next to my ear, gazes deep into my eyes in the mirror. "Come," he growls.
13
Julia
The climax crashes over me; sparks flash behind my eyes. Moisture gushes out from between my thighs. I hear the sound of someone scream… I know it’s me… It can’t be. Have I ever sounded so unfiltered? So completely consumed by the moment. By him. By the passion that ignites between us, by the heat in his gaze that holds me in place as the orgasm smashes into me. I tip up my chin, thrust out my breasts.
"Damian!" I cry out as the climax recedes, leaving me empty. So empty. My knees give out from under me. I fall into him, slide down, and he steadies me with his hold on my hand and my fingers still inside of me. He holds me upright with his grip on my pussy, licks the shell of my ear, and fuck, that’s hot. And erotic. And for all that, he hasn’t even fucked me… Not in the conventional sense.
"Jesus," I whisper.
"Nothing to do with him." He smirks. "And you’re welcome."
"I haven’t thanked you yet," I jut out my chin.
"Oh, you will, before the hour is out. That is, if you have any voice left." He releases me, only to flip me around. He drops to his knees, shoves his head in between my legs, and swipes his tongue up my pussy. I cry out, grab at his thick hair, and hold on.
He squeezes my butt cheeks. I pant.
He slides his tongue inside my melting channel. I moan. My belly trembles and my toes curl. "Damian, Damian," I chant as he tongues me in and out, and in and out. He inserts his finger into my backhole, closes his mouth over my swollen core. I howl, bend over his head, try to close my thighs. A chuckle rumbles up his chest. He proceeds to eat me out, suck on my clit, before shoving two fingers into my channel. "Damian, no," I howl.
His lips curve against my center—or I swear that’s what he must have done—for the next moment, he adds two more fingers inside my sensitive core. He curls his fingers and I explode. The climax grips me, and I clamp my pussy around his fingers, grab hold of tufts of his hair as the sensations smash into me, then fade away. Leaving the sound of my heartbeat pumping in my ears. My bones seem to melt; all of my brain cells have surely self-combusted. I can’t think, can’t do anything except slump against his broad shoulders. I sense him move, crack open my eyes to find he’s scooped me up and carried me to the bed. He tucks me under the covers. "Sleep, Flower." He kisses my forehead, then turns to leave.
I grab his wrist. "Stay," I whisper.
