Chapter 40
“I love how quiet everything is right now,” Dorran whispers against my temple, then tightens his arms around my waist.
“Me too.” I shiver against the wind, but smile when he runs a hand up and down my arm, and his callouses kiss my bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
We’re standing behind the rooftop’s stone railing, watching the night darken before us. The fleeting hustle from earlier has lulled completely, with only the sounds of June Bugs and owls echoing against the peaceful silence.
I spoon some chiffon cake and meringue from the plate that’s on the railing, then turn around to look up at Dorran. “Open up.”
He takes a huge sip of his wine, then grins and parts his lips.
“Suck on the spoon,” I say once he’s taken the cake into his mouth.
He arches a brow, but obeys my little command.
I hold in a breath as his cheeks hollow; as his tongue darts out and licks the back of the frail object in my grasp.
My God, I’m going to lose it. He’s barely done anything, and I’m already so fucking wet for him.
I pull the spoon out of his mouth, and watch – transfixed – when the strong column of his throat moves as he swallows the cake.
“You know why I asked Alex to use orange meringue with our dessert?” he questions, then smirks before stepping closer to me.
I set the spoon back onto the plate, then return his smirk with one of my own. “Tell me why.”
Dorran leans in and touches his nose to mine, resulting in our breaths to merge. “Because you always smell like them – like fucking oranges.” He presses his lips to mine, and distinctly, I hear his wineglass crash against the floor, which makes me chuckle.
He grabs my neck and starts fucking my mouth with his – tongue and teeth and bruising nips that ignite me like a damn inferno – and when his cock pushes against my stomach, I bite his bottom lip and cup him from over his pants.
He breaks the kiss and lets out an unrestrained moan, and it’s so fucking hot that I wanna hear more of it.
I drag my long nails over his growing erection, and Dorran’s gaze turns molten. “I like having you at my mercy,” I tell him. “I fucking relish it.”
He cocks his head to the side. “That so?”
“Mm-hmm.” I run the back of my fingers over his cheekbone, and then, with my eyes on him, I go down on my knees before him.
The harsh ground bites into my knees, but I don’t care, because damn it, Dorran looks stunning like this – all worked up and flushed.
The fairy lights cast an outline around his form, and his face is mildly shadowed by them.
He’s a God – picture-perfectly sinful – but it’s me who’s going to make him sing my name like a damn prayer tonight.
“Unbutton your shirt,” I tell him. “But don’t untuck it.”
He chuckles and starts moving his fingers over the buttons of his shirt, revealing his smooth, muscled skin for my viewing.
I rise on my knees and place open-mouthed kisses on his abs, and when he thrusts his hips forward in response, I laugh and unbuckle his belt, then unzip his pants before shoving both it and his boxers down enough to expose his jutting cock for me.
My pussy aches at the sight of him, so I press my thighs together in a vain attempt to dull my need of wanting him inside me.
I grab his base and lick the precum off the slit on his crown, then take one of the metal beads of his piercing between my teeth and tug on it roughly.
Dorran lets go of a broken grunt, and bunches my hair in a vise grip while heaving out rapid breaths.
I grin up at him, then touch my nose to the patch of dark hair on his pelvis before inhaling, and my clit throbs as his scent overtakes my senses. I slip my other hand under my dress, move aside my underwear, and push two fingers inside my wet pussy.
“Fuck,” I whisper, then lick the thick vein on the underside of Dorran’s cock.
“Cignette…” he groans, and tightens his hold on my hair, silently commanding me to speed things up.
I move my fingers in and out of me at a steady pace, then swallow as much of Dorran into my mouth as I can, all the while stroking him with fervor.
“Take me deeper,” he rasps. “I know you fucking can.” He’s out of breath, flushed from face to chest, and makes for an impossibly euphoric sight.
I hum against him and loosen my jaw, then take him in all the way, gagging when his piercing hits the back of my throat. A few tears roll down my cheeks, briefly making my vision hazy.
Dorran groans again, and it’s enough encouragement for me to start working faster. I bob my head back and forth as I continue to suck him, and with each slide of my lips along his pulsing cock, he moans, taking every bit of the pleasure I’m giving him.
“Fuck yeah, Little Swan,” he says around a smile. “You feel so good fucking my cock with that hot mouth of yours.”
I quicken my movements. His body has gone rigid above me, and I know he’s drawing closer to his release.
I continue to finger-fuck myself as my other hand slips over Dorran’s length with ease, and when I pull my mouth away from his cock to wrap my lips around his balls, his hips jerk forward.
I run my tongue over his sack, then suck on it – gently yet firmly – at which Dorran growls.
He widens his stance and looks down at me. “Just like that – taste every inch of me, Cignette, and don’t you dare stop; I’m fucking close.” His eyes are hooded, and his lips are parted.
I pop his balls out of my mouth, then start stroking him harder, all the while circling my clit with my thumb. I’m close, too, and it’s so hard to hold myself back when all I want to do is come.
“I wanna taste you so fucking bad, Dorran,” I tell him. “Hot and thick – just for me.” I stick my tongue out and slap his cock over it a couple of times, and when I feel him throbbing against my palm, I moan his name and take him into my mouth again.
That does it for him. He tips his head back and roars, pulling at my hair as he basks in his orgasm, and spurts of his cum fill my mouth.
I retch a little at the overwhelming sensation of being full, and swallow every drop of Dorran’s heady release.
My own orgasm follows, rendering me weak as I come all over my fingers.
I whimper as I continue to rub my pussy.
My ears are buzzing, and a flush creeps up my body as I come down from the high.
I pull Dorran’s cock from my mouth, and he all but falls on his knees in front of me. He’s panting, and so am I, and when our gazes meet, we grin at each other. He grabs the hand I’d used to fuck myself, then sucks on my wet fingers, maintaining eye contact with me.
“You loved touching yourself with my cock in your mouth, didn’t you, Cignette?” he asks, then starts working himself, hissing while he does it. “You liked it when I came down your eager little throat, hoping it was your cunt, hoping I’d have–”
Dorran’s words are cut short when the rooftop’s door slams open, and familiar voices fill the space.
I look over his shoulder, and see his crew making their way in, only to stop short when they see us.
Alex’s face contorts to one of pure shock. “Nope,” he says, then shakes his head vigorously. “I did not just see that. I repeat: I did NOT just see that.”
Jayce mumbles something and glances away, whereas Varsha raises her arms in annoyance and walks back into the building.
Dorran clicks his tongue. “You actually can’t see shit, Alex. I’ve got my back to you; stop overreacting.”
“I CAN SEE YOUR ASS CRACK!” he yells. “Your. Fucking. ASS CRACK!”
I purse my lips in an attempt to stifle my amusement, but fail and end up laughing instead.
“I thought you liked my ass,” Dorran quips, then fixes his boxers and pants before getting to his feet. He zips the latter, leaving his belt undone and his shirt unbuttoned, then offers me a hand.
I wince as I get to my feet, and he smirks when he sees my sore knees.
“Yes, but when have I ever mentioned being fond of the crack?” Alex says. “Never!”
Dorran and I face him. He’s standing with his arms folded across his chest, with Jayce by his side, who looks like he wants to crawl into himself.
“What are you guys doing here anyway?” I ask.
“We thought you two must’ve finished dinner by now, so we wanted to come get the dishes and stuff,” Jayce answers.
“Well, we are done, now that you fools have interrupted us,” Dorran states, then sighs and waves a hand in the table’s direction. “Cigs and I’ll bring everything down to your apartment.”
I nod, and Alex glances between Dorran and I with a smirk on his face.
“Since when do the two of you carry dishes?” he teases.
“Fucking zip it,” Dorran mutters, then walks over to the table and starts piling the plates together.
I join him, and ignore the looks of complete hilarity on Jayce and Alex’s faces. But when I chance a fleeting glance at the latter, he winks at me, making me chuckle to myself.