Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DIORA
“You ready?” Elliot asks as I walk through the door.
The dress Elliot got me is a replica of the short dress that the servers are wearing.
My costume is an extremely short black dress with semi sheer tights and black heels.
Juliet straightened my hair and did my makeup, like a “big sister should”—her words.
I feel beautiful. Elliot looks away from his computers, his desk in the place a couch would be, and stares at me. His brown eyes lock on mine and I actually blush.
He rolls his chair away from the desk and has a glint in his eye I wish we had time for.
“Little Crane,” he whispers. His soft voice caressing my soul. If only I could bottle him up for safe keeping.
“Hey, handsome,” I whisper back, stepping closer to the man I’m finding myself head over heels for. “Don’t mess me up. I have to look the part.”
“You look so beautiful all messed up.” He smirks.
“Thank you,” I say, stepping into his legs and using a light grip on his styled hair to lean him back as I bend down to meet his lips . A light peck was all I was going to give him, but he wraps his arms around the backs of my legs and pulls me into his lap deepening the kiss.
He doesn’t look too bad himself. He’s dressed in a similar suit as he was for the ball, his waist adorned with the sexy as sin vest and tie.
Hmmm. This man.
Breaking the kiss, he runs his thumb lightly over my matte lips. He tries to drag his lipstick-covered thumb down my chin, but I jerk away from him with a glare.
“Don’t,” I say, letting the word drop slowly off my lips. I want to let him mess me up. Make me sweat out my straight hair and make my makeup run, but I can’t tell if he is trying to use sex as a distraction. A ploy to stop me from taking down this ring with him.
“Little Crane, when did you become so proper?” he rasps yanking me closer to him, his lips against my cheek, kissing my blush away, I’m sure. Trailing down my neck, I lean my head back, giving him more access. Shit. Elliot Fucking Jay. An impossible man to say no to.
This is bigger than us, though.
“We’re not heroes, Little Crane—” he murmurs starting his bullshit speech I shake my head.
“Absolutely not. You don’t get to talk us out of this.”
“I’m not.” He scoffs, but the slight upward turn of his lips tells me he is indeed trying to talk me out of this.
“Turn off the screens and go over the details with me,” I say, slinking down into his lap. My hands find their way in his soft hair and I message his head as he stares down at me.
“I need the screens for that,” he says, turning them off one by one as his face flushing red.
“Tell me from memory.” My hands drop from his head and trace over his thighs. Slinking down further I land on my knees in front of his desk chair. My nails trace the seams of his dress pants as I contemplate my makeup. Lipstick can be reapplied. My eye makeup cannot.
“You promise to be a good boy and only come in my mouth?” I ask, peering at him through my lashes. His chest heaves, and I resist the urge to smile. Gripping the arms of his desk chair, he tilts his head as he stares at me.
His studio in downtown Litchfort is always dark, even on the sunniest of days and now that the computer screens are off all we have is a little daylight that peeks through his curtains. His eyes seem to glow in this lighting.
“I promise,” he mutters. His golden brown eyes blaze on me and my lips. I decide to leave the lipstick on and paint his cock with it, since he wants to mess my makeup up so much.
“Now, tell me, handsome, what time do we have to leave?” I unzip the zipper of his pants, his hips jerking up at the contact. I chuckle as I freeze, watching the tent his cock is building in his pants.
I hear his breath shudder as I pop the button of his pants, but I gaze back up at him before continuing. Raising a brow, I wait for an answer.
Gulping, his eyes track to the computer screen. He attempts to take a deep breath before answering, but his answer comes out on a shaky breath.
“Nine, baby. Nine p.m.” I can hardly hear him as the anticipation of my lips on him kills his voice. It’s so low. So sexy as I lightly bite down on his thigh through his dress pants. Damn. I leave a bit of spit on him but I’m sure he’s not worried about that right now.
“After all that talk about me not messing you up?” He murmurs and I chuckle.
“Good boy. Now,” I say, dragging his pants down. He lifts his hips for me and I bring them down enough to pull his cock out. He’s hard and long, and my pussy tingles with the memory of him inside me. “Where is the auction happening tonight?”
Watching his eyes, how they dilate, his pulse racing under my touch. Elliot is a responsive man. I love how much he expresses when it is just us and the heat of need.
Elliot’s my first for everything. I’ve never salivated over a man’s cock before, let alone given a blow job. The drool pooling in my mouth practically drips from the corners as I lick my lips.
Gripping his cock at its base, I roll my hands over his shaft.
A bead of moisture comes from his tip, and I use it to slide my hands over him, much more smoothly as I explore the sensitive skin.
His stomach tenses at my first contact, and he bites the corner of his lip. Holy shit, he’s so fucking hot.
I start slow, more from not knowing what to do exactly, but he doesn’t seem to complain. He keeps his eyes glued to my hands, and he attempts to control his breathing, though I like him out of control.
I lick his tip, seeing how far I can push him and he throws his back.
“Uh, oh, fuck.” His words drop in the most attractive way. His breathlessness is heady, and my back arches from the sound of his voice.
I move my hand quickly, needing more noises. More moans and curses. I need Elliot to lose it. I need him to come in my mouth.
Leaning forward, I wrap my lips around his head, my tongue exploring the slit. My heart tries to beat through my ribcage as I take him down my throat. I have slight nerves, wanting to please him but he soothes them with all the noises he’s making.
With only the glow of daylight trying to peek through his blinds, I can hardly see what I’m doing, and the thought rings a sliver of embarrassment through my cheeks. Looking back to him from his cock, I watch as he throws his head back as I slide off his cock with a pop.
“Handsome, why haven’t you answered me?” I ask, running my lips over his cock but not bringing him into my mouth again. He jerks and his hips jump up, trying to enter my mouth again. His hands stay on his desk chair as if commanded by me to stay.
“It’s in the, uh, shit, it’s at Calix Smith’s mansion in Ohio,” he nearly spits out in desperation. “Please, Little Crane, I need your lips back on me.”
“My lips, huh? Only my lips, right?” I whisper against the head of his aching cock. He can’t nod his head faster, and I smile, pleased with his answer. I can admit it makes me feel special. In control. I crave this.
I reward Elliot with my lips, bobbing up and down.
Only skimming my teeth against him once by accident.
Elliot doesn’t seem to mind as his hands finally find their home in my hair.
He tugs at my strands, messing my hair up.
I’ll have to comb my hair back out once we’re done.
I focus on him, his pleasure, as I taste him. Consume him in my throat.
I pull up off his cock. “Next question. Give me the address.”
He thrusts forward, and I let my lips wrap around him again for a single stroke. Finding his voice again, he mutters curses.
“Um, fuck.”
“Come on, Elliot, you know it,” I encourage, letting my breath hit his tip as he shudders under me.
“Please,” he begs. I smile, hovering over him, awaiting an answer. My knees burn, this dress doing me no favors but I push that to the back of my mind as his cock yearns for attention. I breathe all over his cock, watching him throw his head back, trying to come up with the answer.
I give his cock a teasing lick and he nearly shouts. I giggle as I watch his stomach rapidly move back and forth as he loses control.
“Diora, fucking please. Wait. Wait. It’s fucking, um, five six four Addline Street.” And before he can finish his answer, my lips are back on him, sucking and bobbing. I have no idea if he made that answer up, but as of right now, I don’t really care.
His hand is on my head now, gently guiding my head to meet his thrust. I let him take control, so long as he doesn’t mess up the rest of my makeup. I can feel my lipstick spreading off my lips and I pray it’s an easy fix with a cotton swab like how I saw Juliet fix parts of my application earlier.
I switch between licking and sucking him. Watching his face and hearing his groans of pleasure satisfy me, encourage me to keep going. With him setting the pace, I focus on the feel of him in my throat.
Elliot’s big and hard, and I choke on him as I go down. My saliva makes a mess of my face and his cock, but by his face, I don’t think he minds. Not at all. I can’t help but want to smile, but I can’t with my lips around his cock.
Each stroke of my tongue and the hollowing of my cheeks brings him to come.
His hips jerks despite his restrain as he groans.
Trying to warn me he’s about to come but can’t quite get the words out.
He tries to push me away but I swat his hands away and lean forward more, fully choking myself on him as his hot salty taste shoots down the back of my throat.
I gag over him, which only makes his thrusts more erratic.
I suck him through his orgasm as he loosens his hold on my hair.
He doesn’t let me rile him up for another.
Pulling me up in his lap, he smashes his lips to mine.
My hands find his extremely pullable hair.
He kisses me so deep I have to lean back, his lips chasing mine, his hands fully responsible for whether I fall or not.