White Nights (White Nights 1)

For some reason, I feel at home even before he pulls up in front of his house. I feel like I belong inside the warm safety of this car with this dominant, possessive man. The front garden with the broken angel weeping on the fountain steps is already one of my favorite places, and when he leads me inside his house, it feels as if I’ve seen the contemporary paintings and decorations a thousand times instead of twice.

His bedroom is like an old family resort that welcomes its visitors every year—a second home away from home. It’s like booking the same room in the same hotel for every Easter holiday. Everything is familiar, except him. I can never get used to him, or to the perfection of his body as he peels away his layers of clothes. By the time he’s stripped down to his underwear, I’ve barely shrugged out of my coat.

Coming to me naked, he pushes me backward with a hand on my shoulder. My coat and bag fall on the floor, forgotten at my feet as he steers me deeper into the room. My knees bend when they hit the mattress, and I’m on my back before a gasp leaves my lips.

He crawls over me like a predator about to devour its prey, but then he takes his time to arrange me how he wants me with my hands above my head and my legs pressed together. I’m fully dressed, wearing my wool dress, thick tights, and long boots. He doesn’t undress me. He simply drags the dress up over my hips and wiggles the tights with my underwear down my thighs. Trapped by the tights, I can’t open my legs, but that doesn’t seem to be his aim. He’s too impatient.

“Don’t move,” he says, dragging a gaze over how I’m presented.

The hard length of his cock brushes against my naked thigh as he leans over me to get a condom from the nightstand drawer. The crest is slick with precum. His muscles ripple in the glow of the lamp, mesmerizing me. I lift a hand to trail my fingers over the dark dusting of hair on his chest, but he catches my wrist and places it above my head again.

“Like this,” he says, burning a path over me with his eyes.

I lie back, relaxing deeper into the mattress and giving over to the passive position he wants me to take. I watch as he sheaths the condom and strokes himself. I’m already impossibly wet when he reaches for the buttons of my dress, slowly popping each one through the hole. He stops at my waist, baring only the lacy cups of my bra. It’s a pushup that gives me the cleavage my breasts don’t manage unassisted, and when he unclasps the clip in the front, the cups fall open, letting my breasts spill out.

My nipples tighten instantaneously. The temperature in the room is warm, but I’m so sensitive that the contact with the air distends the tips into hard points that ache for his touch. He doesn’t disappoint me. Filling his hands with my curves, he plumps them up and lowers his head for a kiss. When the wet heat of his tongue makes contact with my left breast, my whole body jerks.

He hums his approval as he licks and gives a soft nip. “Very sensitive. You’re going to come so hard for me tonight.”

My body prepares itself at the promise, more liquid heat gathering in my core.

He takes his time kissing my breasts, starting on the outer curve and working his way to the center. I’m a squirming mess when he finally takes the tip into his mouth again, sucking deeply. I arch off the bed with a moan, lost in the sensation that coils around my abdomen and ends with a pulsing ache in my clit.

He sucks and licks, grazing me with his stubble until my skin is oversensitive and the scruff on his cheeks feels too abrasive. The side of my breast is red and raw, sporting two hickeys when he finally gives it a rest only to attack the other breast.

The slow torture starts all over again. He’s gentle, but he bites and sucks my curves and nipple for so long that I can’t stand the touching any longer when he finally moves to my mouth. In contrast, the kiss he plants on my lips is chaste. It’s a small warning, a tender consolation, before he flips me over and drags me to my knees. Again, he arranges my dress around my waist, exposing my lower body. My breasts are swaying lightly, free for the exploration of his wandering hands. He tests his reach, cupping one in each palm and uttering his approval with a satisfied hum that comes from deep in his chest.