Page 25 of Dial F for Finance
That thought should be insulting.
Instead, it’s wildly, helplessly arousing, which feels like a design flaw I’ll have to analyze later.
“Dominic—”
“Don’t you dare tell me to stop, Pemberton,” he growls. “I’ve been fucking starving for this cunt for years and I’m determined to get my fill.”
My head lifts off the mattress. “I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.” He glances up at me, eyes dark, mouth wet. “Now lie back and keep your thighs spread wide for me.”
I do as I’m told. The command is so foreign it’s a kind of shock to my system, but the compliment buried in it—it detonates any last holdout of resistance in my body. I want to rake my nails through his scalp and haul him closer, but he has both hands locked over my thighs, keeping me exactly where he wants me.
His tongue dives back in, deliberate and tenacious, tracing slow circles around my clit before sucking it into his mouth with just enough pressure to make my vision blur. I arch off the bed, a gasp tearing from my throat as he works me over, his stubble scraping against my inner thighs in a delicious burn that heightens every sensation.
The room spins, narrowing to the heat of his breath, the firm grip of his fingers as he licks and teases, plunging deeper until I’m trembling, my body a live wire sparking toward overload.
“God, Dominic,” I manage, my voice breaking on his name, but he doesn’t let up, just hums against me, the vibration sending shockwaves straight through my core.
It’s filthy and perfect, the way he devours me, adjusting his pace to draw out the torment. The orgasm coils tight in my belly, building faster than I can control, and when he flicks his tongue just right, combined with the scrape of his teeth, it crashes over me—hard, unrelenting, my hips bucking against his face as waves of pleasure rip through me.
“Holy fuck! Dominic!” I cry out, loud enough that it echoes in the suite, my thighs clamping around his head despite his hold, but he rides it out, gentling his mouth only when I’m gasping, spent, my body limp and buzzing.
He lifts his head then, lips glistening, eyes locked on mine with a smug satisfaction that should annoy me but only makes me want to pull him up and kiss that look right off his face.
“I knew it’d be hot when you screamed my name like that. But, fuck, Jen.” He crawls back up my body, settling his weight over me, his erection pressing hard against my thigh through his pants. “I wasn’t prepared for just how hot.”
He grinds against me then captures my mouth in a kiss that tastes like me, like us, like the line we just obliterated.
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, because now that I’ve come undone, I want to watch him do the same—want to strip him bare and see how far I can push until he’s the one begging.
But he breaks the kiss first, rolling to the side and propping himself on an elbow, his free hand tracing lazy patterns over my stomach.
“You doing OK?” It’s softer than I expect, a check-in amid the wreckage, and it catches me off guard.
I nod, still catching my breath, my skin humming from his touch. “More than OK. But you’re still dressed. That’s a problem.”
He chuckles, low and warm, sitting up to unbuckle his belt slow, like he’s savoring the anticipation. “Patience, Pemberton. We’ve got all night.”
CHAPTER 5
Dominic
Jenna’s surrender lasts exactly as long as it takes me to kick off my pants.
Her gaze drops to the erection straining against my boxers. Then her fingers hook into the waistband and drag them down.
I’ve imagined her looking at me like this more times than I’ll ever admit. None of those fantasies accounted for the look on her face when she wraps her hand around my cock.
“Holy fucking hell, that feels good,” I moan, resisting the urge to pump my hips into her grip.
Her mouth curves as she strokes me up and down. “Still want to call all the shots?”
“I’m reconsidering the arrangement.”
She strokes me slowly, thumb sweeping over the head, and my hips push into her hand before I can stop them.
That faint curve becomes a real smile.
