Page 7 of Suck

God he’s sexy, and I’m so naïve to ever think there could be any interest in a girl like me from a man like him.

Strong and commanding, he relaxes on the sofa like a king. Massive enough he takes up two cushions on the oversize couch. One arm drapes across the back while his huge hand rests on his thigh, wrapped around a tall tumbler of scotch that matches the one he gave me. Sophisticated and confident as he clinked the rim against mine, I couldn’t resist even though I should have.

Now I’m tipsy as well as nervous and awkward because I don’t know what else to do with my hands or my mouth. Fearful of talking too much and sounding like an idiot although he seems to like the answers I give him to all his questions between our glasses of whiskey.

Smokey and rich, the liquor tastes like velvet honey flowing down my throat and making me feel light-headed and warm. Or maybe that woozy effect is from him. The way he looks at me. Listens to me. Leans toward me. While I sit in this stupid dress so enormous the fabric overflows the sides of the chair. Maybe that’s why he lounges across from me. Petrified of being swallowed in the wrinkled white material and never seen again.

At least now I know why they call him The Devil behind his back. He’s dangerous and full of so much sin, I feel guilty just by association. Or at least I think I should feel guilty but I’m not sure. Somehow being with him doesn’t feel wrong like I think it’s supposed to. I take another long taste, which makes him smile that seductive smile. His expensive liquor really is good, and when I seriously consider reaching out and rubbing across his plump lips I force myself to set down my drink. “I think I’m drunk.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

A line as smooth as his alcohol that I’m sure he’s said to a million other girls. But I don’t care. Tonight he’s paying the compliment to me, and I need the boost to my floundering ego. “You do?”

“Fuck yes I do.”

His deep voice is thick and growly with conviction, and I like hearing that too. Pretending that I’m the one who makes him needy. Telling myself I can be someone who makes him happy. At least for one night.

“Come over here.”

I should tell him no but I can’t seem to think of a reason to. Tangled in the massive gown, I carefully push off the armrests and stand in front of him. Well aware how ridiculous I look. How ridiculous I am for being here. I circle the tulle around my body as I stand between his long legs sprawled on each side of my gauzy prison. “It’s hideous.”

“If you don’t like it, take it off.”

He’s absolutely right. I lost the ring and now I need to lose the dress. But I can’t do it alone. I slowly turn back toward my seat and look at him over my shoulder. Realizing I’ve just tempted Satan himself with the fire flaming in his eyes as he watches me.

“I need help.”

I was going to be good. So fucking good. But now she stands there asking me to undress her. To see what, if anything, covers that glorious body under her gown.

I set down my glass. Grateful for the heat of the scotch warming my body. Although she must be freezing from the goosebumps lifting on her smooth skin, sparkling from the glitter sprinkled across every delicate inch. “Where?”

Unable to hide the desire pulsing in my tone, I smooth my palms over her shoulders and down her arms. Reassuring her I won’t attack regardless of how much I want to.

“The corset in the back…” An enormous stuttered breath breaks her whisper as she shivers under my caresses. “…needs to be unlaced.”

Jesus. I slowly tug the ribbons apart. Baring more and more of her smooth, pink skin to me until the silk slides down. Her plump tits sit high and erect. A tiny white thong teases between her luscious ass cheeks with fuck me garters encircling her toned thighs.

Her slight body trembles against me. “Are you afraid?”

“Terrified.”

God damn it. “That I’ll fuck you?”

“That you won’t.”

I’m a bastard, and she might as well know the truth now. I kiss her neck to cushion my assault and glide my hands around to tug at her throbbing nipples. So hot and hard and happy between my fingers.

She cries out. Not in admonishment. But in pleasure. Fucking pure pleasure followed by my name. Oh doll, this is just the beginning. “I want you to be my queen.”

Her body arches, following my strokes in sharp contrast to her head shaking. “I’m no queen.”

I’m not even a little bit drunk, but I’m a whole hell of a lot fucking crazy with her arousal coating my hand as I glide between her legs. Unable to comprehend what she says. Hell really comprehend anything at all except for her pulsing clit beckoning me to fuck her. “Too late, you already are.”

“Yours?”

I growl against her throat from her strangled tone and slide my finger into her dripping pussy. “Yes mine, and you always will be.”

When she nods, I fucking lose any other thoughts I had except for the single, solitary mission to be inside her. I scoop her up, the irony not lost on me that I’m carrying her bridal style to my bed. Although she doesn’t give me any time to contemplate her possible indecision when her mouth finds mine, kissing me with a desperation I feel to my balls while I maneuver down the hallway to my room.

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