Chapter 25 Sloane #2
I blink slowly, turning my options over in my mind.
Part of me is shocked he’s willing to hand over control, and the other part is scared to take the reins, knowing that the fear of feeling silly for trying to boss around such a commanding man is still a very real thing for me.
I study him, looking for any indication that he’s playing with me, but his face is deathly serious even as desire starts to line his features.
What the hell, I think to myself. I have nothing to lose.
“Yes,” I say with more confidence than I feel. “Now, take off the jacket.”
If being ordered around by Dom is sexy, then watching him follow my orders is downright erotic.
He moves slowly, shrugging the jacket off of his shoulders and then taking one muscular arm out of each sleeve with practiced precision.
I bite my lip as I watch him fold the fabric neatly and hang it on the chair by my dresser.
His muscles shift and bulge under his shirt with the movement, but my eyes are drawn to his hands as they straighten his tie, smoothing the silk to make sure it’s lying perfectly against his chest and abs.
“What’s next?”
There’s a huskiness to his voice as he asks the question, and it makes the sight of him deferring to me that much sexier. I squeeze my thighs together, acutely aware that I haven’t had an orgasm since last night in the parking lot.
“Sleeves. Roll them up. Slowly.”
Again, he follows my order without a word.
My eyes snap to his deft fingers, watching closely as they remove one silver cuff link and then the other.
He sets them both down on the dresser with a soft clink before settling the dark velvet of his heated gaze on me.
I hold it for only a moment then shift my attention back to his fingers.
Riveted at the sight of him rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbow, exposing the corded veins of his forearms one by one.
“Do you have any idea how sexy you are when you’re biting your lip?”
I shake my head, because I don’t know, and I really don’t care. All I care about now is how amazing it is to have him standing in my bedroom. How hard he is while he looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world and strips for me at my request.
“Loosen your tie and then unbutton your shirt, Dom.”
My favorite fingers in the world go to his neck and yank his tie loose, leaving it hanging.
Then he’s pulling his shirt out of his pants and running his hands slowly up his stomach and chest until he reaches the button at his collar.
I arch a brow, trying to appear unaffected even as liquid heat pools in my core.
“Are you teasing me?”
His eyes go wide, feigning innocence as he makes short work of the buttons. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just following your orders.”
“Mm-hmm. Following orders means leaving out all the extra steps.”
“I’m sorry, angel. I’ll be sure to follow your orders exactly next time.”
God, I love this.
More than I ever expected to. Now I can see why Dom likes control in the bedroom.
The heady rush of power as you watch someone bend completely to your will, obeying your every command just to please you.
And it’s even more intoxicating for me to know he’s trusting me to run the show—to take control of his pleasure and my own—because it confirms what I thought last night when we were on the phone: he doesn’t see me as the guilt-ridden woman who ran out on him just a few weeks ago because she couldn’t stop her self-loathing and fear from eating her alive.
I’m so different now, so much more comfortable with allowing myself to have this even though I’m still not fully convinced I deserve it.
And as much as I hate to admit it, he was right about waiting.
About giving me time to settle and feel secure in this relationship.
I thought I was ready for everything before—and I probably would have been fine if he’d given it to me—but today there’s no probably or maybe.
There’s only the powerful, pounding certainty that even if everyone else in my life might look at this situation and say it’s wrong, I know it’s right. Because here in my bedroom, there’s nothing we can do that won’t feel predestined, inevitable, and impossibly right.
Suddenly, I’m dying to have him on top of me, anchoring me to earth and the truth singing in my blood with the weight of his body.
“Come here.”
I sit up a bit to reach for him, and he strokes his beard thoughtfully without making a move. “I would, but I’m not completely undressed yet. And I think you want me naked for this next part don’t you, angel?”
Lust clogs my throat, stealing my ability to speak.
I nod and watch him take the rest of his clothes off.
First, he toes off his shoes, then his hands are on his belt.
The veins in his forearms bulge deliciously as he undoes the buckle and unbuttons his pants.
The quiet glide of his zipper is agonizing, making my fingers itch to pull it down myself, but the power dynamic between the two of us has shifted back to normal.
It was nice to have the power, but I can’t find it in me to be sad about giving it back to him. I want him in control, so I wait with bated breath while he undresses for me. Praying all the while that his comment about wanting him naked for the next part means what I think it means.
After what seems like an eternity, he’s striding toward me in all of his naked glory.
Every hard slab of muscle shifting beautifully with each step.
His dick is fully erect and the ever-present bead of precum leaks from his tip.
Then he’s standing over me and gripping my ankle to pull me to the edge of the bed.
Reverent fingers stroke up my legs, caressing the lace cuffs circling my thighs as his lips go to my knee.
“Tell me about your day.”
The words are a soft murmur against my skin, but an order nonetheless.
He continues to press kisses to my leg, starting at my knee and moving down my inner thighs.
I’m spread wide before him to accommodate the width of his massive shoulders and the small puffs of air from his nose skate across the flushed skin of my sex.
I suck in a breath to help me concentrate on forming a sentence that isn’t a plea for him to tongue my pussy through the lace of my panties.
“It was uneventful, certainly not as interesting as what’s happening here.”
Heat flashes in his eyes even as his mouth turns into a flat line of dissatisfaction. “Details, angel. I want to hear all about your day while I eat this magnificent pussy.”
Oh God.
He releases the clasps on the straps of my garter belt in seconds and places his hands on the band of my underwear. Rough fingers dig into my flesh as they grip lace and begin to pull.
“Lift your hips for me.”
My body follows his order instantly, and Dom takes full advantage, sliding the lace down my legs and tossing it over his shoulder.
Our eyes meet for a second before his gaze drops off to inspect me.
I spread my legs further, a shameless and wholly unnecessary invitation.
I’m so wet I can feel the evidence of my arousal slipping out of me, taking every bit of my brainpower with it.
Which is unfortunate, because the man between my legs is still determined to get me to use at least some of it to recount the details of my day to him.
Dom puts both of his big hands on my ass and lifts me to his mouth. Then he gives me a slow, filthy lick with the flat of his tongue, starting at the end of my slit and dragging through my folds until he reaches my clit.
“Oh God.” My head goes back, my eyes close, and the entire world falls away. “More. Please, Dom. I want more.”
“I’ll give you whatever you want, angel.”
I don’t even need to hear the “but” because I feel it floating in the air between us. Hovering over me with its tongue sticking out, teasing me for not being able to think even though no woman in my position would be able to.
“My day was good, but I missed waking up next to you,” I admit softly. “Mal was gone by the time I got up, but she asked me to come to the office today, so we could handle the situation with our office assistant together.”
“Keep talking and watch me.”
I lift my head and open my eyes just in time to see him lowering his head back to my body through a haze of lust. A moan rips from my throat as he laps at me with soft strokes of his tongue.
Even though he’s going slow, and seems to be in complete control, there’s no mistaking the satisfied grunt that leaves his chest when he plunges his tongue into me.
“We—shit, Dom. That feels so good.” I roll my hips to meet the thrusts of his tongue, and he pinches my ass to remind me to keep talking. “We were going to fire Jeanie, but she sent in a letter of resignation this morning. We spent the afternoon reaching out to temp agencies to…”
He turns his attention back to my clit, sucking it between his lips and pulling rhythmically while his tongue flutters over the swollen bundle of flesh mercilessly.
My hands grip the duvet as the force of my day-old orgasm descends on me.
Another pinch, this time to my other cheek, reminds me to keep talking before I miss my chance to come again.
I bite back a moan and force myself to focus even though I don’t know where I was in my retelling of the day’s events. “We’ll have someone new by next week. Mal and I went to lunch. I spent the afternoon checking on my senior designers and then—”
I feel it. The ripples of pleasure making my sex spasm.
Languid heat pushing warm tingles through the base of my spine and out into the rest of my body.
I home in on the sensation, too afraid of losing it to do anything but freeze under Dom’s busy lips and wicked tongue.
But just as I’m about to fall over the edge, he pulls back.
“Then?”