Chapter 3
Averie
I’d shown up at Sir’s penthouse looking for a quick release, a rough tumble in the sheets that would leave my pussy satisfied and ready to face the chaos of my detective life once more.
Instead, Sir Daniels had me pinned beneath his gaze, his hands working magic on flesh I hadn’t realized could sing such high notes.
With each brush of his thumb over my hard nipples, I felt thrills jolt through me, my body responding as if he were stroking the strings of an instrument I didn’t know I possessed.
“Fuck, Sir!” I gasped as a wave of pleasure crashed over me from just the teasing pull at my peaked nipples. It was a new kind of climax, one that left me breathless with its gentle intensity.
“Didn’t think it could be that fuckin’ good, did you?” His voice was thick with his own arousal, his chocolate brown eyes glinting down at me.
I swung my head in a no, dark curls tumbling around my lean shoulders, my full lips parting in surprise. Control was my bread and butter. I gave the orders, ran the interrogations, and led the mothafuckin two-step. But here, under Sir’s commanding touch, control was the last thing I wanted.
Then, without warning, he swept me into his arms. An unexpected laugh bubbled out of me, short and disbelieving.
He was all muscle and intent, carrying me through the threshold of his bedroom like a brand-new bride.
The room struck me immediately; there were raven-black walls and clean linens, and everything looked to be in its rightful place.
Not what I’d expect from a man who ruled the underground of New York City’s crime world.
Sir laid me down on the king-sized bed with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the hard lines of his chiseled, tattooed form.
My pulse skittered as he undressed me, his fingers dancing along my tingling skin, sparking little fires everywhere they touched.
A shiver ran through me when his lips brushed the sensitive spot above my right armpit on my shoulder, where my heart-shaped birthmark was.
His mouth peppered a trail of kisses down my side, pausing to savor the dip of my waist and the curve of my ribs.
“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured against my skin.
As he revealed me bit by bit, desire pooled hot and urgent within me.
Every deliberate touch and every kiss laid upon my body like worship stoked the inferno between my thighs.
By the time I lay completely naked beneath him, my skin was covered in goosebumps, and I was intensely aware of the ache that begged for his attention.
“Please, Sir…” My plea was a whisper, my fingertips digging into his cool, soft sheets, craving more.
“Patience, Averie. I promised you pleasure.” His words were assurance as his eyes held mine captive.
I, Averie Morris, the woman who faced down criminals without flinching, found myself surrendering to a drug lord who caressed me as if I were the most precious jewel in his possession. And damn, if I wasn’t enjoying every second of it.
I lay stripped, my breath hitching as Sir knelt before me.
His large hands were gentle, almost worshipful, as he traced the contours of my body with his fingertips, exploring me like a man deciphering an ancient treasure map.
When his fingers grazed the soft, sensitive flesh of my inner thigh, I couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath.
“Found something?” I teased, trying to maintain a facade of control.
“Only what’s mine,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk that managed to be both arrogant and endearing.
“What makes you think it’s yours?” I countered.
“Because I haven’t even gotten started, and you’re already dripping for me.”
I bit my bottom lip, watching, entranced, as he parted my folds with practiced ease. His touch ignited tiny explosions of pleasure that rippled through my body. Sir’s tongue followed a warm, wet stroke that made my back arch off the bed involuntarily.
“Damn. I knew you’d taste like heaven…” Sir purred, his breath hot against my moist skin, sending ice-cold tremors down my spine.
I gasped. “Your words are as good as your touch.”
He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated against my sensitive skin.
And then, without warning, his lips latched onto my throbbing clit with a suction that was nothing short of sinful.
It jolted my entire body, a bolt of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
I gripped the sheets, torn between the desire to pull him closer and the fear of losing myself entirely to the sensations he was luring from my depths.
“Oh, fuck, Sir…” I voiced, broke, raw, and needy.
A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face as he feasted on me as if I were his last and favorite meal.
His brown eyes locked on mine, refusing to blink as if he didn’t want to miss a second of the pleasure he was throwing my way.
He was relentless, his tongue swirling, teasing, and diving into my folds until my hips began to gyrate of their own will, seeking more pressure.
“Please…” I inhaled, not even sure what the hell I was begging for anymore, only that I needed more. I needed him to fill me in every way imaginable, and most importantly, to never stop.
But Sir was a man who played by his own rules.
Even as a drug lord who bent the streets to his will, he was determined to draw out every last shiver, high-pitched gasp, and racing pulse of my heart.
It was the cruelest type of payback. He wouldn’t give me more—not yet at least—and the denial was a dark, delicious torment that made me want to scream and surrender all at once.
My breath hitched, my body a live wire of sensation as Sir’s mouth worked its magic.
The intensity of his attention sent shockwaves through me, yet the tender ferocity in his eyes truly unraveled me.
In the charged moment, I felt both worshiped and devoured, a contradiction only Sir could inspire.
I was sure there was no other nigga on earth like him. He was one of one.
“Tell me exactly what you want, queen,” he murmured against my throbbing flesh. “You want to make my face your throne? I’ll do it. You reserve the right to be selfish tonight.”
The desire to speak was fierce and clawing at my throat, but the words were elusive captives. He was right. I wanted his handsome seat of a face in places it’d never been before. When they finally burst free, they came out in a heated whisper. I gasped, my tone laced with urgency.
“I want you to finger me… to taste me, to fuck me, Sir. Please. I’m yours,” I declared.
There was a pause, a moment when the air seemed to thicken with my plea and surrender. Then Sir shook his head, the barest movement, but one that spoke volumes.
“No, not until I keep my promises to you.” His tone was resolute and commanding even as his lips grazed my sensitized skin. “And I promised I’d make you cum by sucking this precious pearl of yours, didn’t I?”
I could only nod, lost in the depth of his fiery gaze. The pledge lingered between us like a sacred vow.
He smirked. “No finger fucking. No fucking you with my dick. Not until your cum is all over my tongue.” His words dripped with persuasion, painting images of raw pleasure that seared into my mind.
“I want you to flood my beard with your juices when you cum, Averie. I want your scent to soak into my skin where I can’t wash it off… ever.”
A shudder ripped through me. The immorality of his wish and the sheer intensity of his need for me fanned the internal flames higher.
I was no stranger to the gritty streets of desire, but with Sir, I found myself navigating an entirely new map where every turn led to uncharted peaks of unimaginable pleasure.
My fingertips found his hair, threading through the soft waves, anchoring myself to him as he brought me closer to the edge once more. It was a dance of fire and desire, yielding control to gain something far more exciting: a release so hard that it would redefine ecstasy.
Fuck, he’s so sexy.
My breath hitched as a wave of pleasure crashed over me.
I’d been with men before, plenty of them, but none had ever dedicated themselves to my body with such single-minded devotion.
As a detective, I was used to reading people, but with Sir, well, he’d always been a mystery to me. He was unraveling me completely.
My hips lifted off the pillowtop mattress involuntarily when he sucked harder at my clit, his hands expertly parting my juicy folds to expose my sensitive clit to the warm, wet assault of his mouth.
He tongued it perfectly, lapping at my flower like I was the finest delicacy, jabbing with a light precision that sent jolts of pleasure straight to my brain.
It felt so damn good, it was almost worth getting fired for.
“Goddamn, Sir!” I panted, my voice barely above a whisper as pleasure coiled tighter within me, rising from the pit of my stomach.
The room was a blur, the onyx walls of his bedroom melting into nothingness as all my senses focused on the sensation between my legs.
“Like that, my only queen?” Sir murmured against my flesh, his breath hot. His eyes flicked up to meet mine, and for a moment, I saw the barest hint of vulnerability in them. It was a significant contrast to the gruff gangsta exterior he showed the rest of the world.
“More… just like that,” I begged, feeling every ounce of control slipping through my fingers like smoke as I surrendered to his services. I needed it—I needed him to push me over the edge into oblivion.
He chuckled, a dark, promising sound, and shifted his focus back to my pulsating clit, his movements deliberate and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to idolize my body.
Every lap, every suck, every tender bite was a step closer to me shattering.
I clung to him, my nails scraping his fade, anchoring myself to reality by the sheer force of his presence between my thick caramel thighs.