Chapter 20 #2
He smirks, then peels off his jacket, tossing it onto my chair. Eyes still focused on me, he sheds his T-shirt next, taking the black tank top underneath halfway with it. I gasp. Elliot’s been hiding how ripped he is.
His head drops as he stares at his six-pack along with me, then he gives me some puppy-dog eyes. “Lifting laptops is hard work.”
My mouth waters. Especially when he undoes his belt, folds it in half, and snaps it, then unbuttons his jeans. When he tugs his undershirt back down and tosses the leather strap onto the chair, I snag it.
Once his pants are off, I stare at his bulging erection beneath his boxer briefs. Another vision of the last time I was playing with one flashes across my brain.
Vanq! Get out of my mind!
Part of me wants him to see. To watch as I get off using Elliot. Maybe he’ll be furious. He’ll bust in here and do something reckless.
Part of me wants him to.
The other is focused solely on that leaping dick beneath the black fabric and wanting to use it for myself. I long to make him completely naked, but I’m almost afraid to see him fully. Terrified of how much lust already overflows inside of me.
“Lie on my bed as I said, peasant.” I snap the belt, and Elliot tries to hold back a smile.
“Yes, ma’am.”
As soon as he lies on his back, I toss my jacket on the pile of his clothes and undress until I’m just in my bra and panties. His chest rises rapidly as he scans my body with heat, making his cheeks grow pink. Once again, his cock surges beneath his briefs.
I straddle his waist, a thigh bracketing each side of his chest, then seize his wrists and press them together.
Shoving up his tank, my stomach flips at the sight of those glistening abs.
I drag his hands above his head and use the belt to strap him to the headboard—my perfect, panting sex prisoner.
“I-Is that too tight?” I ask.
His warm smile makes me know that what I’ve asked is pretty ridiculous. “Maybe I want it to be. I told you. You’re in charge here. I’m at your mercy.”
I lean forward and press my lips to his, our kiss blinding me and making me forget everything. When I break it, he whispers, “Ruin me. Please. Do whatever to me. I just…I need you.”
It changes something in me when he says it. Like I’ve been waiting for permission to allow myself to feel good without shame. Perhaps by dominating him, I’ll get to feel that way. Powerful. In control. And sexy.
His stubble feels so soft beneath my palms, and I get an idea. If I’m too nervous to use him fully yet, I’ll fulfill one of my fantasies. Something I’ve never felt comfortable doing to a man.
But Elliot’s not just some random man. And I don’t think he would judge me, no matter how thick my thighs are.
So I slip out of my bra and panties, tossing them to the side.
“Holy fuck,” he breathes out as he stares at me with reverence. “You’re so beautiful.”
My nipples harden in the cool air of the room, and I take a deep breath before slipping back over him. “I want you to eat my pussy.”
“You have no idea how much I want to taste you. I’ve been hungry for you.”
Delicately peeling away some of his messy sandy-colored locks, I stroke his cheek for a moment. Hesitating.
“Climb on my fucking face, Olivia. I need that pussy on my tongue.”
“Okay… But I want you to beg.”
“Oh, fuck. Please, Miss President. Please, sit on my face before I starve to death. I can smell your scent from here, and I…I can’t fucking take this. I’m serious. I want you so fucking bad.”
My core clenches. “That was pretty good.”
His legs kick at the sheets, and I giggle at his tantrum as he lightly pulls on the belt. “What do you need from me? I’ll do it. You want me to growl? Drool? Promise you things?”
“I want you to tell me why you took an interest in me.” It slips out before I stop myself.
He grows still, but the fire behind his eyes doesn’t die.
In fact, it burns hotter. “Because you carry strength behind your smiles. I see through that fucking facade, Olivia. It’s not you.
The real you is all blade. Seduction. And beauty.
” His voice grows gritty. “So fucking slice me open. I want you to.” Beneath me, his chest rises and falls rapidly. “Please.”
I’m so soaked, I’ve already made his skin wet. But I nod and slide up toward his head while grabbing the headboard. I lift and lower myself over his nose and mouth, the hairs from his jaw tickling my inner thighs until I bounce off him.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re going to drive me insane. Just sit on my face. Give it to me.”
“I’ll suffocate you.”
“Then I’ll pass out with pleasure. But shove your pretty pussy over my mouth or I’m going to die.”
So I sit. Fully. On his face.
The first moan bubbles up from his throat, and it hits my clit so perfectly I jerk in response. As his nose nudges that tender bundle again, I arch back, bracing with one hand on the headboard. His fingers stretch behind him, opening and closing like he’s reaching for me through the restraint.
My hips move with purpose—grinding, swaying, dragging every slick inch of myself over his mouth while his tongue works with devoted desperation. He isn’t just devouring me—he’s worshipping. Learning.
And he figures it out.
Running my hands through his luscious locks, I tug on them as I bounce on his mouth. Sliding myself back and forth. He’ll probably have rug burn on his face just as much as my thighs.
My moans dissolve into gasps as my rhythm stutters. I grip his hair tightly and rock against him like this is the first time I’ve let go of control.
“Oh, my god. Yes. Right there.” I’ve never taken charge. And spitting out the commands, shoving his head where I need it…it’s not like me. But it feels good.
He mumbles something into my entrance, his tongue fucking me there as I work myself over his face.
I can’t tell what he’s saying, but I don’t care.
The pleasure is unstoppable. The sounds wet and pornographic.
Wails escape from my throat and escalate to fill the room, and I don’t even care if Sora hears.
I grip the headboard tighter, knowing I’m about to lose it, ready to explode everything I have all over his face. When he groans, it vibrates through me like thunder. His hips jerk. And just as I come, a cry rips from my throat before I can stop it:
“V!”
The orgasm hits like a wave breaking over stone, soaking everything. I’m gushing, screaming, trembling. And I coat his chest, chin, and face with my arousal. I can’t breathe.
I stumble off of him, heartbeat wild, and dash to the bathroom. My face is flushed with what just happened, and embarrassment. Can I go back in there and look him in his gorgeous eyes? Well, I can’t stay in here all night.
When I return with a towel, I untie the belt, and he wipes his face, then his thighs, smiling like he just saw heaven.
“I… I don’t even know what happened,” I whisper, suddenly unsure, vulnerable. “I think I— Did I just…?”
“You squirted,” he says, voice breathless and awed. “And it was fucking incredible. You made me come just from that.”
He hesitates like he wants permission, then I lean in and kiss him, tasting myself on his tongue. His jaw is red, raw from friction, and somehow, that only makes me want him more. I’m relieved he hasn’t mentioned the word I called out as I came…but I’m also nervous he will.
Sweetly, he brushes my hair back off my shoulders and grips my chin with his finger and thumb. And he grows serious again. When he does, that fear returns. The one that says there’s danger lurking just underneath his surface. “This wasn’t just a thing for me.”
Taking a deep inhale, I swallow back all reservations. He presses his forehead to mine, and the electricity between us only heightens. “Not for me either.”
And yet…
I called out for Vanq…