Page 77 of The Temporary Bride

She takes more of me, working her way down slowly, her tongue moving in long strokes against the underside of me as she goes, and within a minute it’s very clear she’s approaching this with the same focus she brings to everything else. She finds a rhythm, her hand working the base while her mouth handles the rest, varying the pace, reading my reactions, adjusting.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” I murmur, watching her face, the way her eyes stay on mine even with her mouth full of me. “You want me to fuck your face, just like I said I would.” She makes a sound of agreement that vibrates through my cock and shoots up my spine, and I groan low in my throat. “Then that’s what you’ll get. But if it’s too much, squeeze my hand and I’ll stop. Understand?”

She pulls back just far enough to look up at me, her lips swollen, her eyes dark and certain. “Okay,” she whispers, slightly breathless, and links her fingers through mine.

She takes me back into her mouth, going deeper than before, and I start to move my hips, slow at first, watching her face, giving her time to adjust. She takes it well, her eyes staying on mine, her free hand gripping my thigh, and I pick up the pace gradually. Heat builds fast, coiling tight at the base of my spine, my cock swelling every time I reach the back of her throat. I can feel how much she’s into this, the sounds she’s making, the way her fingers tighten in mine, and it makes it harder to hold back than it should.

I push a little deeper, holding her there for just a beat longer, and her hand tightens around mine.

I pull back immediately, my cock leaving her mouth, and the cool air of the room hits me as she stays on her knees in front of me, her chest heaving, lips swollen and slick, her hair wrecked from my hands. My stomach tightens as I look at her, wondering if I pushed too far.

Then she drags the back of her hand across her mouth and looks up at me, and there’s nothing uncertain in her expression.

“I need you,” she whispers.

Something seizes in my chest. I reach down and pull her to her feet in one motion, my hands at her waist, and she steadies herself against me. I fist my hand in her hair, tilting her face up to mine, close enough that I can see every detail of her expression. She makes a small sound, her breath coming fast, and I hold her gaze.

“Say it,” I demand. “Tell me exactly what you need.”

She takes a slow breath. “I need you to fuck me.”

I spin her toward the window. Her hands go to the glass without being told, palms flat against it, and I look at her there for just a second, her dress still hitched up, her hair loose around her shoulders.

“Spread your legs,” I say.

Chapter 26

Chloe

I spread my legs wider, my palms flat against the glass, my heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat.

My clit is still throbbing from the orgasm he already pulled out of me, and going down on him only wound me up tighter.

His hands find my hips and he pulls me back toward him, bending me slightly at the waist. I keep my hands on the glass and feel the cool air hit my skin as he shoves my dress up over my hips, baring me completely.

His hands move over me slowly, running up over my hips and ass, squeezing and stroking, and I’m already so wound up that every point of contact feels electric. I arch my back without meaning to, my body moving of its own volition, and he groans behind me.

His fingers trace the curve of my hip, down the outside of my thigh and back up again, and it’s so deliberate and unhurried that it makes me want to scream.

“You said you’d fuck me when I asked,” I whimper, looking back at him over my shoulder.

He chuckles, the sound hungry but not particularly sympathetic. “No. I said I’d fuck you when you begged.” His hands move down to squeeze my ass, firm and possessive, fingers pressing into the soft flesh. “And you haven’t begged nearly enough.”

Before I can put together a response to that, he slides his cock between my legs, dragging the head slowly along the length of my pussy without pushing inside. He does it again, slow and deliberate, his hands firm on my hips to hold me right where he wants me, and I press my forehead against the cool glass and try to get my breathing under control.

I can’t though.

He keeps going, his cock sliding through my pussy lips on every pass, just barely grazing my entrance each time, close enough that my hips keep trying to push back for more and far enough that I never quite get it.

He dips his fingers between my legs and works my clit for a few seconds, just enough pressure to make my knees go soft, and then takes his hand away again.

Goddammit.

“Tristan.” I’m going for annoyed, but my voice comes out more wrecked than I intended.

“Mm?” He drags his cock between my legs again, grazing my clit with the tip. “Do you need something, dimples? I’ll be more than happy to give it to you. You know what you need to do.”

“Please!”