Billionaires in Paris - Page 44

This is what men are so afraid of. Being so in love with a woman that we get on our knees and do things that we were raised to shun. We are supposed to take what we want. Get what we want. If we want a woman to suck our cocks, we go out and find one who will do that for us. As I said before, there is no shortage of willing women. The ones who want to make us serve instead can deal with their loneliness.

As long as I live, Kathryn will never have to experience that kind of loneliness again. If I can start with right now, kissing her body and indulging in the very essence of her being, then I will. There is no torture in it. No one has to force me to do it. It’s my own choice, and the amount of power I feel down here on my knees is overwhelming. Can she feel it too?

She touches my hair, patting it down, combing it with her fingers, tickling my ears as I kiss her and come closer and closer to her radiating warmth. The scent of her is so strong now that I don’t know how she’s not jumping my bones. I know I’m about to explode!

“Go on,” she encourages me. “Give me all you got. I’ll tell you to back off if necessary.”

Kathryn remains still as a statue as I pull aside her underwear and dive into her heat. My cock goes to another universe entirely – or at least I don’t feel it straining anymore. Have I actually softened? Or am I in such a different headspace now that nothing can penetrate my concentration? Because I will run my tongue over her nether lips, tasting anything and everything that comes from her mortal body. From the first real sip of her silk I am a total goner. Goodbye. I only have one mission in my life now.

She stiffens beneath my hands and tongue. Good. She’s entering the moment as well. This means I’m doing exactly what I should.

“That’s good,” she whispers, pulling my hair so my tongue sinks deeper into her center. Soft. Warm. Wet. I’ve passed the slick skin and am now exploring her more primitive core. This is the sort of place only my cock and fingers get to experience. “Holy shit.”

Fingers squeeze my head. The desperation rising between us can’t be measured. Kathryn’s wetter. Her taste intensifies, and I can’t hold back how badly I want to take all of her into my mouth. My lips are wet. My nose is wet, buried in her fine hairs. Something is happening in my brain that makes its chemistry go out of whack. Here comes my reward pouring from her body, telling me how great I am.

I know her well enough by now to detect when she’s about to come. Damn. This is fast even for me. I consider it a point of pride if I can get her off in ten minutes, let alone five! Is she really that into me acting like this?

“Make me come, Ian,” she snaps. No whines. No whispers. Just pure, basic, commanding need. “I want to come all over your face.”

Kathryn’s toes push against the floor as she gains another few inches on me. I have to commit to pleasuring her now. Knees digging. Fingers searching. Tongue desperate to show her how much I love her. A low, rumbling groan flows through her body just ahead of her release.

Yes, all over my face.

It’s not the first time she’s come on my face! Ha! No way. Even when she’s on her back, tied up, blindfolded, legs held together so she can barely move… and me between her legs spoiling her… even then she gets it all over my face. That’s different. In that moment I’m making her come undone. Right now? She’s confirming that what I’m doing is exactly what she wants from me.

I devour her, all of it. Her thighs shudder around my face, and I’m drunk on her pheromones and the way I make her feel. Only I could do this. Those other men she’s been with, whether they were beta male Martin Charles or alpha male Damon Monroe, couldn’t make her feel this way.

You would think that it pumps my ego up until I think I’m the hottest shit in the universe. It doesn’t. If anything, it makes me sad. How long has she waited for this moment?

Her moans turn into laughs. Kathryn steps back, and I catch myself with my hands. Was not expecting to see the floor so soon.

“Aren’t you fun?” Her bare foot lands on my back. Softly, of course, but I can feel her weight spreading through my muscles. There are calluses on her heel that I’ve never noticed before. Not until they were scratching against my spine. Where did she get these calluses from? Her shoes? Fashion really is pain, isn’t it? “Thanks for making me soak my panties. Congratulations. You did it within the time limit.” She pushes down, and thus I go down. Out of the corner of my eye I see the toes on her other foot wiggling in anticipation. It’s so tempting to reach out and tickle her, but I know better. I want rewards, not unfortunate punishments.

Tags: Cynthia Dane Billionaire Romance
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