Chapter Ten #2
Which is why I nearly faint when she turns her head enough to brush a command against my cheek, “Show me again how sweetly you can beg.” I open my mouth to do just that when she adds, “On your knees.”
Fuck yes. Holy shit, I nearly come in my pants when she says those words.
I reach for my glass, downing the rest of its contents in one swallow.
Then I’m sinking onto my knees in front of her.
I’ll need to have these pants dry cleaned, and my knees are going to fucking hurt tomorrow, but I couldn’t give more of a fuck as I rest my hands on my thighs in supplication to the woman who has consumed my every waking moment for weeks.
Months. I dream about her, night and day.
I’ve imagined this view, of her icy blue eyes boring into mine as I submit to her as much as the setting allows.
She takes note of my posture instantly, I can see it in the slight narrowing of her eyes.
She’s young, much newer to this game than I am, but she’s a quick learner and she recognizes my experience with…
Well, not shock exactly. But there is something dark glittering in her glacier eyes that makes me want to squirm.
I don’t though. I’m perfectly still in front of her, a statue bathed in writhing shadows.
“How many?” She asks cooly, bringing her drink to her lips. She’s asking how many people before her that I’ve kneeled for. How many have I submitted to?
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly and her brow arches. “This isn’t my first club.”
She hums, low in her throat, raising her chin.
When she uncrosses her legs, I instinctively lean in, dying to bury my face between their elegance.
The toe of her heel forcefully meets my shoulder, halting my advance.
My heart hammers in my chest so hard it drowns out the music in my ears.
I watch her raise the wine to her lips again, taking a slow sip.
“Do you have a preference?” She asks, and my brow furrows. “Men? Women?”
“No,” I swallow. “I have no preference.”
Naomi tilts her head, considering this. “Do you always sub?”
Behind me the woman on stage lets out a long, gasping moan. “No,” I answer only loud enough for her to hear. It’s like a bubble has consumed us, only her and I exist in this room, the dozens of other sweaty bodies an illusion. “But it’s what I’m best at.”
My gaze drops to her parted legs as her stiletto drops from my shoulder. “And I would very much like to show you, si me lo permites?”
Please let me.
Another long drink of wine and she nods. “Show me what that enchanting tongue can do, pretty boy.”
“Gracias a Dios, la Virgen y San José bendito.”
I resist the urge to cross myself, choosing to run my hands up her calves instead.
A shiver goes down my spine at the first contact of my fingers against her velvet soft skin.
This might be the most religious experience I’ve ever had, here on my knees just skimming my hands behind her knees.
Meeting her gaze, I pry her legs apart firmly so my shoulders can fit between.
When my hands slide along her thighs, shoving up her skirt, she averts her attention back to the stage.
No, no, no. Look at me, please.
Fuck, I’m pathetic, and she knows it too. It’s why she refuses to look at me when she says, “You have until she finishes to finish me.” Because then the show is over, and she’s going to leave and this will be the only chance she ever gives me to prove if I’m worth her time.
The way she says it is like she very much expects for me to fail. As if this won’t be the first time she’ll walk away disappointed.
“I will make you come,” I tell her. “If that’s what you want from me, I will make it happen.”
The corner of her lips tilts. “We’ll see.”
Oh, it is so on.
This won’t be the first time I’ve made a woman come in public.
There are a few other club members in the same position as me, between the knees of their partners, many of whom- by the sounds of their sharp breaths and deep moans- will finish well before the show is over.
On the stage I can hear the whimpers of the woman being edged within an inch of her life.
If Naomi ever allows me to do such a thing to her I will take immense pleasure in denying hers.
However, tonight is not about denial, it’s about assurance.
It’s about proving to her that I’m worth taking out her frustrations on.
That I’m worthy of whatever carnal acts she needs to feel like the powerful queen I know she is.
I don’t bare her to the room, but I push her skirt just high enough to find her pussy bare and glistening. “Cono de la madre,” I growl under my breath, rocking my hips into nothing. My dick is painfully hard, dripping obscenely enough that I’m damn sure my trousers are already stained with it.
Reaching down, I try to find some kind of relief, but a sharp command stills my movements, “No.”
I don’t dare look at her, but when her hand comes into view, I take it. She places my palm roughly on the cushion next to her hip. Then she sets her wine glass aside and takes hold of my other hand placing it on her other side.
“You’ll keep your hands here,” she orders. “Nod that you understand.” I nod. “Good boy. Now get to work.”
I do as I’m told. After all, that’s what I’m best at.
Running my tongue up the length of her inner thigh, I chance a glance up to find her once against watching the stage.
Her muscles ripple beneath my mouth, but she gives no other indication that the action brings her pleasure.
I resist the urge to bite her knowing that won’t do me any favors right now- save it for later, Graham- and find my way beneath the lavender tulle of her skirt.
The first pass of my tongue nearly finishes me off. She tastes better than I ever imagined and for a second I almost black out before I remember I’ve been challenged to something requiring my particular expertise. I will make this woman come or die trying.
What a perfect way to die though.
I begin eating her in earnest, thrusting my tongue into her heat deeply, taking her in long, languid strokes that make her legs tremble.
I can no longer see her face, but when I suck her clit for the first time I hear her breath hitch.
It’s slight, not enough to make me think I’ve got her in my clutches, but enough to tell me she enjoyed it. And that it surprised her.
Instead of continuing the suction I pull back, just a little, tracing dirty Spanish words into her bud with purposeful strokes. Her hips begin to squirm, and I resist the desire to disobey her and bury my fingers in her flesh.
My own hips rock in time with hers, seeking friction and finding nothing but air. Not that it matters. I can already tell that with her, touch will not be something I need. I might beg for it, but it will never be a necessity.
I finish tracing my name into her clit and suck her between my lips again. A gasp escapes her at the same moment her hand finds the back of my head. Her fingers dig deep, pulling at the strands until I’m groaning into her cunt. The rumble makes her moan.
Firming my strokes, I circle her clit slowly, then quickly, testing what makes her muscles quiver against my cheeks more.
Slow does it for her every time and I listen to her body’s response like a siren song.
Her grip tightens in my hair as I draw her toward an edge she never anticipated, holding me so firmly against her cunt my face might end up impressed against the skin of her thighs.
Pressure is boiling down my spine, a pleasure I need to resist until the very last second.
When her hips stop thrusting and her legs won’t stop quaking, I return the suction to her clit and take just the tiniest, most tentative bite.
Her moans, like so many others, echo in chorus to the woman on stage, a cry of the most intense pleasure as she explodes on my tongue.
I follow her instantly over the edge, the sound and taste of her arousal all too much.
Like a fucking teenager I come in my pants so hard I see stars, but I don’t stop licking her until she forces my face from between her legs with a sharp tug at my hair.
Her breathing is ragged, eyes blown wide, as she takes in my haggard appearance. My face is drenched, her scent and taste trapped in my trim beard.
“Te lo dije, vale,” I lick my lips slowly, grinning like the fucking devil that I am. “If you want it, I’ll make it happen, mi reina. Por ti, lo que sea.”
Her breasts rise and fall with every shallow intake she can manage. “Take me back to your place,” she breathes. “Right. Now.”