He tastes like the whiskey he drank at the club.
He kisses like he wants to conquer me.
Suddenly, we’re moving. One hand gripping my hair and one molded to my waist, he walks me backward in the direction of the main bedroom, his mouth never leaving mine.
I’m oxygen. He’s a man starved for air.
For a second, I wonder how he knows where to go. Did he map out this place while I was with Cleo? But the thought becomes irrelevant when my back slams against the wall, and he drops to his knees before me.
My breath hitches.
He’s still in his suit, but as he stares up at me, he slowly undoes his tie—a frustrated, beautiful beast taking off his leash.
He shucks off the tie and drops it to the floor. “Take off your dress,” he directs, his voice a low rasp.
Fingers trembling, I reach for the hem and pull the entire thing over my head. It feels inelegant and awkward, but when the dress hits the floor beside his tie, my embarrassment is forgotten.
Ras’s gaze burns a trail up my body. Reverent. Worshipful. Hungry.
I’m wearing a black thong and no bra.
The cloud of frustration he has swirling around him seems to dissipate slightly as he takes me in. His eyes linger on my breasts for a few moments before he closes the distance and presses a kiss to my stomach.
Another to my hipbone.
Another to the little bow at the waistband of my thong.
He said he wouldn’t be gentle, but it’s as if he can’t help himself.
I shut my eyes in response to the sudden ache inside my chest.
His palms land on my ribcage and move skyward until they’re wrapped around my breasts. An appreciative breath escapes him.
“Fuck, these feel good,” he rasps against my skin, his lips still pressing kisses to my abdomen.
Warm pleasure slips through my veins at what he’s doing to me. How he’s touching me.
He drops one hand to my thigh, lifts my leg, and slings it over his shoulder.
I grab onto him to try to find my balance, but his hands tighten on my legs, and he lifts his gaze to meet mine. “You’re not going anywhere unless I let you, Peaches.”
There’s a steady drumbeat inside my chest.
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
When his lips brush over the thin fabric of my thong, it speeds all the way up.
He hooks two fingers around the fabric, pulls it aside, and presses the flat plane of his tongue against my wet entrance.
“Oh God,” I moan as my pussy begins a slow, insistent ache that only grows with each pass of his tongue.
He licks around my opening, slow and unhurried. His fingers delve into my folds, pulling me apart so that he can drag his tongue over every exposed inch. Goosebumps spread over my flesh as he gets closer and closer to my engorged clit.
Need pangs inside of me. “Please.”
He understands. The first swipe he makes directly over my clit sends my pussy fluttering. I let my head fall back and shut my eyes, focusing all my attention on the pressure building between my legs.
The waves come slowly and then faster and faster. My nerve endings sing. Ras is making noises, satisfied and unashamed sounds, and they’re doing something to my head.
His lips wrap around my swollen clit, and he sucks. Hard.
I sob. My fingers dig into his scalp, pushing the hair tie down until it falls somewhere on the floor.
I’m right at the edge. My hips start moving, fucking his tongue.
“More, just a bit more,” I whine, feeling like an animal in heat.
He slips two thick fingers inside of me and curls them forward.
The orgasm crashes through me. A full-on collision. For a few seconds, I can’t breathe. All I can do is move my hips to the rhythm of the contractions deep inside my core while he pumps his fingers in and out of me.
When my movements slow, he pulls out of me and sucks my juices off his fingers like it’s his favorite dessert.
A shiver runs through me.
Ras nudges my leg off his shoulder, sits back on his heels, and lets go of me. Without him supporting me, my legs won’t hold. He watches me slide against the wall. My wetness coats his lips, his beard. When I land on my ass and my legs fall open on their own accord, his gaze latches onto my pussy. I’m trembling, panting, baring myself to him, and he’s feasting on the sight like he could stare at me forever. Like he’s worked for this, and now he’s enjoying the fruits of his labor.
After a minute, he stands up, straightens out his slacks, and pulls down the sleeves of his shirt. It’s like he’s getting ready to walk out of here and pretend his tongue wasn’t just deep inside my cunt. He glances down at me, doesn’t offer a hand, and walks to the bed.
I follow every movement through hooded eyes, waiting for him to make his next move.
Ras sits down on the edge of the mattress and starts undoing his cufflinks.
He’s quick. Efficient. The cufflinks go on the nightstand. Then he makes quick work of the buttons on his shirt. When he pushes the fabric over his shoulders, it’s my turn to gorge on the sight of his bare skin.
Smooth, tanned, muscular back. Rounded biceps. When he moves, tendons dance beneath his flesh. He’s got a full-sleeve tattoo on his left arm, and another one nearly finished on the right. There’s a smattering of ink over his abs.
I want to get closer, but I realize I’m waiting for instructions. He’s in control now. He doesn’t need to say it. It’s in the air.
Ras tosses the shirt behind him onto the bed and then unfastens his belt, pulling the leather through the loops on the waistband of his slacks. He undoes the button and the zipper.
When he reaches in and takes out his cock, my mouth grows wet. It’s jutting out, bigger than I expected, glistening at the tip.
He doesn’t finish taking off his pants, just leans back on his palms, spreads his legs, and dips his chin toward his erection. “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”
My breath catches. A gush of wetness runs down my thigh.
His eyes are taunting as he waits for me to do it. Maybe he thinks I won’t. Maybe he thinks it’s already too much for me.
It’s not. My body pulses with arousal, ready to do anything he demands from me.
When I start moving, his eyes become burning embers. He watches me move closer, my hands and knees pressing into the low-pile rug.
My cheek bumps against his leg. I drag it against his thigh until I reach his groin. His cock is an inch away from my mouth, hard and veiny, a drop of pre-cum sliding down his shaft.
I wrap my hand around the base and slowly lick above it. I do that a few times before I look up to see if I’m on the right track. A nervous energy swirls inside my gut. I know what to do in theory, but I’m low on practice.
Ras’s taking shallow breaths, his eyes glued to me. He drags his thumb along my jaw and pulls on my bottom lip. “Cazzo. You look so fucking good kneeling between my legs.”
I let his low, rumbly voice wash over me. His praise scratches an itch I didn’t realize I had inside me.
Suddenly, I’m determined. I’m going to do this well. I’m going to crush this.
His thumb leaves my lip. “Now, put it in your mouth and suck.”
I’m ready. I take his thick cock all the way in until the head hits the back of my throat. My gag reflex kicks in. I choke, eyes watering, but I breathe through it until the unpleasant sensation disappears.