Chapter 22 #2
There’s something outrageously hot about him hovering inches from my dripping wet pussy with raw hunger in his eyes while he’s still clothed .
Maybe it’s because the man looks like sin in his slacks and fitted dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his bulging forearms. Or that combined with the skewed power dynamic it suggests—me nude and spread open for him, and him still completely dressed.
But I don’t have time to puzzle out exactly why this has me wetter and more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life.
Because just then, his eyes lock with mine as he lowers his mouth to my pussy.
Holy fucking FUCK .
It’s like fireworks going off in every corner of my body when his tongue drags wetly up through my lips. Like I’ve been electrocuted. A ragged cry rips from my throat as my back arches, my thighs instinctively clamping together.
Kir grabs them and shoves them back apart, pushing his tongue into me. I whine, my back spasming again as a sensation I’ve literally never felt spreads like pure sin through my core.
He drags his tongue up and down my lips before he moves to my throbbing clit above. His lips wrap around the pulsing nub, and when he starts to suck, his tongue batting across it mercilessly, I come undone .
It’s pure sin and heaven. Anarchy and chaos as my body riots with needy pleasure.
He groans into me, sucking on my clit, tonguing it over and over as his fingers tease up and down my thighs, coaxing me higher.
He slips one hand up again, and when he pushes two fingers back into me while he sucks and nibbles on my clit, everything starts to shake.
To blur.
To crack, rattle and tremble.
My hands fist the duvet, my entire body squirming, the muscles of my ass tightening as my back arches and my hips shamelessly grind against his mouth.
I need more.
I need all of him.
The sensation grows stronger, deeper, my core clenching up as my toes curl. My hands drop to his head, tentatively stroking his hair. When he forcibly makes me grab two fistfuls of it, I moan as my hips buck against his face.
His merciless tongue swirls over my clit as his fingers stroke this insane part of me just inside. My legs shake and jerk, clamping around his head. My fingers tighten in his dark hair as the fire inside me begins to ignite.
When he looks up my body, and his dark devil eyes lock with mine, I fall completely apart at the seams.
And when I come, it’s the single most explosive, consuming, life-altering thing I’ve ever felt.
A ragged scream rips from my throat, my entire body arching off the bed as Kir clamps his mouth to my pussy and tongues me through my first orgasm into a second one.
Then a third.
After that, it all goes blurry and melty.
I’m shaking and gasping for air when he slides up, hovering above me with one hand on the mattress next to my head and the other cupping my jaw. His mouth crashes to mine, and I whimper, kissing him eagerly, tasting my sweetness on his lips and tongue.
Then suddenly, he pulls back and scoops me up into his arms, cradling my naked, shaking body against his still-clothed one.
A lazy smile creeps over my mouth as I look up into his eyes when he starts to carry me out of the room.
“ Are you going to fuck me now ?” I whisper.
Darkness flashes in his eyes for half a second before he shakes his head.
“That isn’t how this is going to work, Brooklyn.”
My brows knit as he takes me down an opulent hallway.
“What do you mean?”
“This isn’t transactional.” He glances down at me, frowning. “You owe me nothing.”
My lips twist. “But…what if I want ?—”
“You don’t want to, trust me. Not yet.” Kir’s jaw is tight, his eyes straight ahead as he carries me through the house. “You’re not ready for the way I fuck, babygirl,” he murmurs quietly.
That…shouldn’t sound as tempting as it does.
We step into a room, and he gently sets me down. When I turn, my pulse skips and my eyes open wide, my mouth falling open.
Fuck .
The guestroom or wherever I was before was gorgeous. But the vast, elegant bedroom before me is nothing short of pure luxury .
Huge windows, draped in white, with little Juliet balconies off them. A sitting area with a couch and two chairs. A door leading to a stunning bathroom, and against the far wall, an enormous, white, four-poster bed.
“What is this?” I whisper.
Kir takes a slow breath as he turns to me.
“This, babygirl, is your room.”
I blink as I stare at him. “ What ?”
“I told you: you live here now.”
I start to say something, but he cuts me off.
“It’s not up for discussion, Brooklyn,” he murmurs. “This is your house now. And this…” He turns to nod at the room. “Is your bedroom.”
I feel a brief pang and want to ask why I’m being sequestered in my own room instead of…well…sharing his.
But then, when his possessive, fiercely protective gaze slides over me again, I get it, and my heart melts.
He’s not keeping me at a distance.
He’s giving me space to be me . To feel comfortable in this house.
And whether or not he knows it, he’s just given me what might be the most incredible gift of my life: my own bed .
Not a couch. Not a cot, or a futon. Not the back seat of Pearl.
My own bed, just for me.
I tremble when he turns to me and wraps an arm around my naked waist, his fingers splayed across my hip as he pulls me close. He reaches down to lift my chin, his eyes locking with mine.
“This house is your house too now,” he murmurs.
I shake my head. “Kir, I?—”
“And you owe me nothing ,” he growls. “Never forget that.”