Chapter 5
CAMILLE
A m I deliberately poking the uptight billionaire until he snaps?
That would be a yes.
Am I truly convinced he’s this riled over the classic simultaneous oral position?
Actually…yeah.
I wouldn’t have guessed it five minutes ago, but the fire in his eyes as he stalks my direction has me seriously rethinking…well, everything.
My palms start to sweat as Ashton storms over, an unreadable look on his face. Is he fired up for sixty-nining, for sex swings, or for proving himself on a sexual stage?
I’m about to find out.
He stops right in front of me, icy blue eyes shooting daggers. “Lose the dress.”
“Nice foreplay.” God, it’s working.
Ashton doesn’t blink. “Lose the dress now .”
He finishes unfastening the buttons on his borrowed chef’s coat, and in an impressive display of multitasking, toes off his shoes and kicks them toward the door. Thick hands drop to his zipper and he stares me down with fiery hot lava in his eyes. “I’m not joking, Camille. Get naked right now.”
“Does the bosshole zaddy thing really work for you?”
“Yes.” He drags down his zipper and shoves off his pants and his boxer briefs.
Swallowing hard, I stare. “I can see why.”
Domineering men have never been my thing. I’m starting to reconsider.
I can’t resist pushing his buttons again. “What if I just want to swing?” Threading my feet through the stirrups, I kick out and set myself in motion. “What if I feel like?—”
“Like a woman who needs her pussy licked?” He captures the strap connecting the swing to the ceiling. The other hand catches my waist, halting my movement completely. Storm clouds fill his gaze as he stares me down. “I won’t ask you again, Camille.”
I shiver and try to hide it. “I don’t recall you asking me the first time, Ash Hole.” Liquid heat between my legs. “I remember you bossing me like a caveman.”
“That’s because you like it.”
Licking my lips, I wonder if it’s really that obvious.
“Yes,” he says, though I swear I said nothing out loud. “I can see how you become flushed and dazed when I tell you what to do. How you squirm in your seat, rubbing your legs together.”
“I don?—”
“Your mouth might say you don’t like being ordered around, but your body says otherwise.”
Arousal rolls through me like a wave. Has any man ever paid this much attention to my responses?
“You’re an expert on my body now?”
“Damn right, I am.” He hooks two thick fingers under the strap of my new gray sundress. “You have three seconds to take off this dress, or risk losing another one permanently.”
“You’re a menace to the women’s clothing industry.” But I step from the swing and grab hold of the hem of my dress. “Do I get time to shower first?”
“You do not.” His eyes rake my body as I pull the dress over my head. “I want to taste you just as you are. No flowery soaps or lotions.”
“Jesus.” I can’t believe how aggressive he’s being.
Or how much I like it.
Hayden was a stickler for showers before oral, both for him and for me. He framed it as a form of consideration for each other.
But Ashton Holyfield demanding to taste me just as I am has me peeling off my new panties and kicking them aside.
At least I thought to give myself a quick sponge bath in the spa’s locker room when I put on my new dress.
Small blessings I’m not steeped in airport funk, or the deposit he left inside me an hour ago.
Holding his gaze, I peel off my bra. Ashton makes a low sound deep in his throat.
“Fuck.” His iron jaw clenches. “You’ve got perfect tits.”
“Oh—it’s the first time you’re seeing them.” I’d almost forgotten the rush we were in before. I never even took off my bra.
Sliding my hands up to cup them, I give him a saucy smile. “They feel even better than they look.” A shudder rolls through me as I stroke my nipples with both thumbs.
He shudders, too. “You are exquisite.”
Exquisite? Who says that?
Bossy, silver-haired billionaires, apparently. It’s insane how much I love this.
“You want to touch?” I step close and his breath stirs my hair. “I have very sensitive nipples.”
The growl that slides out of him sounds feral and wild. His massive cock lurches like it’s trying to grab me.
Then he does grab me. One hand strikes out like a snake, pulling me tight to his chest. He lets go of my hip and glides his hot palms up my body, shoving my own hands aside. Cupping my breasts, he groans.
“Jesus.” He squeezes me roughly, but not too roughly.
God, that feels good.
“Like that,” I breathe as his thumbs roll my nipples. “Just like that— oh .”
“So fucking soft.” He sounds like he’s praying in church. I’m also a fan of how well he takes direction. He’s touching me just how I said to. Trusting me to know my own body. To say what I like without him taking it as an affront to his ego.
His hands knead my breasts, thumbs caressing me just how I want it. Not content to just stand here, soaking up pleasure, I put my own hands to use. Catching his cock with both hands, I stroke him from root to tip.
“Fuck,” Ashton hisses as I squeeze tighter. “Harder.”
I do as he’s asked, tracing my thumb over his glans. He seems to like that, so I do it again, watching his blue eyes go molten. He’s kneading my breasts more firmly than I’d normally like, but I find myself begging for more.
“Harder,” I urge.
He obliges and nibbles my ear. “Will this be the entirety of our verbal exchange?”
“Just saying ‘harder’ over and over?” I give his granite-like appendage a strong squeeze. “I somehow don’t think so.”
He kisses his way down my throat, dropping to his knees in front of me. There’s something disarming about a powerful man kneeling at my feet. Something even more disarming about him squeezing my breasts together, sucking and nibbling my nipples.
“God,” I grab, gripping his hair in a fist. “Of course you’re good at that, too.”
“Wait ‘til I get my tongue between your legs.”
I shiver and grip his hair tighter. If I don’t anchor myself to his skull, I might actually fall over.
“ Not harder.” He releases my nipple and looks up with clear irritation. “I don’t believe I would look good bald.”
“You don’t want to find out for sure?” I loosen my grip on his hair, but only a little.
“You shouldn’t take risks with a man holding your nipple between his teeth.”
My laugh morphs into a hiss at whatever he’s doing with his mouth. There’s this soft, gentle suction, followed by a tight pinch that’s almost painful. Then more gentle pressure and the swirl of his tongue. I cry out in pleasure and he does it again. And again .
Ashton Holyfield fucking pays attention.
Also, I’m pretty sure he’d look great bald. He’d look great wearing a burlap sack and a Burger King crown.
“What’s making you smile?”
I look down as he sucks on my nipple again. “Um, that feels fucking amazing?”
“You had a thought.” He does the whole suck-and-nip thing again. “I can tell when something lights up in your brain.”
“You’ve known me two hours.” And yet, here we are, touching each other intimately for the second time. “I pictured you wearing a Burger King crown.”
He blinks. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a very strange woman?”
“Insane,” I clarify. “That’s what the last man I slept with suggested.”
“He sounds wise.” Ashton licks me again. “And handsome. A Burger King crown?”
“Also a burlap sack.”
Sitting back on his heels, he stares up at my face for a second. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“You don’t get out much, do you?”
“No.” Something I can’t read passes over his face. “I don’t.”
“Good thing we’re staying in.”
“Indeed.” Gripping my hips, he gets to his feet. Turns me around so we’re facing each other, but now his back is to the sex swing. “Mind if I have a seat?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer. Just sits on the padded swing platform, gripping the handles as he finds the stirrups with his feet. Of course, they’re too short, so I drop to my knees and adjust them for his height.
“I was going to offer you the manual,” he muses, “but I see that won’t be necessary.”
“I’m a quick learner.” I’m also impressed he’s allowing himself to be in such a vulnerable position. It’s not every man who’d park his bare ass on a sex swing with someone he’s just met.
Extending his legs in the stirrups, he watches me rise to my feet. “Come here.”
I’m getting used to him bossing me around, because I don’t even comment. I just move to stand near his right side. “Here?”
“No, here.” He releases the handles and leans back in the seat, abs flexing with effort. “By my head.”
The way he’s reclining must take an incredible amount of core strength. I watch like a voyeur as he slings a second strap behind his shoulders. “I appreciate the help,” he quips. “I don’t suppose you could adjust that pully right there?”
“This?” I tug on a lever that makes the strap longer. “How’s that?”
“Perfect.” He eases his torso back, coming to lie with his upper half parallel to the ground. His feet rest on the floor, stirrups dangling by his shins where he won’t have trouble finding them again. It’s a bit like he’s lying on his back at the edge of a mattress, long legs bent over the sides.
“Right here.” He lets go of the handles and holds out his arms. Toned pecs flex and his impressive biceps are on full display. “Straddle my face, Camille.”
“You should have opened with that when we met.” I waste no time stepping into position, not even a little self-conscious. “You’ve clearly done this before.”
“I read the manual.”
“I meant the position, not the sex swing.”
“Read the manual for that, too.”
“There’s a manual?”
He grabs hold of my thighs, spreading me over his face. “Grab the handles until you get settled.”
“What am I settling in fo— oh !” I cry out as his tongue strokes the length of my slit. “Jesus Christ.”
I know I told him this position was on my fucket list, but that was mostly the novelty. It sounded like fun, trying something unique. But this feels?—
“Exquisite.”
“You’re stealing my word,” he murmurs as he licks into me again. “Fuck, you’re wet.”
“I’m not waterboarding you, am I?”