“Tell me who you belong to.” His voice is low and serious.
“You,” I whisper. “Only you.”
“Get your finger on your clit. Don’t tell me you’re not ready to come too.”
I can’t deny it and I lower my hand, thankful for the contact, the potential for release.
“That’s it. Rub that clit hard. Fast. Faster.” He gives his orders, standing above me, releasing one hand from his hair and running his thick fingers around his pulsing shaft, up and down, up and down, as his brow knots and drops of liquid drip, drip, drip from the tip.
It’s not long before the aching in my core turns to a tension. Then the tension to a pressure. And I’m starting to lose focus.
“Good girl,” he growls. “Get ready to open that pretty mouth.”
I do as he says, curling my toes tight. Watching, learning, savoring every second of his power and masculinity.
“You ready to come?”
I work my hand faster, the sloppy sounds of my drenched sex matching the slapping sounds of his hand as he beats himself off in front of my nose.
“Do it, baby,” he orders, releasing his dick, then cupping my chin. “Come, baby. You first. Always. You first.”
I extend my tongue, as if to say ahhhh, and that does it.
I’m flying into bliss. Waves of turbulence begin to take hold, spinning and tossing me in their powerful current as I hear Daniel’s low curses start.
“Open that fucking mouth,” he bellows, and I toss my head back, my tongue extended, eyes unfocused as I try to look upward and see him throw his head back. “Fuck!” he roars, so loud it shakes me down into my marrow.
I feel the first hot spurt hit my tongue, the salty, savory flavor spinning me into another orgasmic burst as he paints my cheeks, my nose, my throat and my chest with spray after spray of sticky release.
His orgasm is long, greedy, intense. His body hardens, his balls drawing upward. I slip my hands up his thighs, worshiping him now with my eyes closed as he bathes me in his cum.
Once his roars soften, and his breathing steadies, I wipe his sticky release from my eyes and look up. It stings a little. But I don’t mind.
He’s looking down at me like I’m the most perfect thing in the world.
“Holy shit, Princess.”
Slowly, he eases himself back down into the wingback by the fire. His shirt is rumpled and stuck to his chest with sweat. I see his pulse pounding in the pronounced veins that run up his muscular throat.
While he watches, I carefully gather every last drop of his cum from my skin with my fingers. Licking it like honey. It tastes so, so good. All I can think is how much I want it inside me.
“Jesus Christ.” He growls, reminding me of a lion. “How the fuck did I get this lucky?”
I don’t think luck has a thing to do with it. With the way I’m feeling, the way I’m wanting him, it feels like fate. But I don’t want to sound like a naïve little girl.
“You deserve to get your money’s worth,” I answer, smiling and teasing.
He doesn’t say anything in response. But his eyes tell me he can feel it too, between us. The spark.
The magic.
I clean us off. I take my time about it. Enjoying him. Going slow and carefully.
When I’m done, I gently place my chin on his thigh, looking up at him. He blinks a few times, like he’s trying to wake from a dream. Then he smiles down at me, watching me. He moves my hair from my sticky cheek and groans.
“So…” His voice is low and serious again.
My heart drops. I don’t want this to be over. Not yet. Not even close.
“Please don’t tell me you paid half a million dollars for that.”
He grunts out a half-chuckle. A cocky smirk, hardly more.
“Would’ve been a bargain if I had.” He reaches for his king, a fleeting glance at the board, then his black eyes are back to me. “But all good things come to an end, isn’t that the saying?”
My pussy clenches with disappointment.
“I don’t know anybody who actually thinks that.”
“Don’t you?”
I shake my head so hard my neck pops.
And then, just as he’s reaching for his king to checkmate me, he knocks the board over and all the pieces go flying. They clatter to the floor in the most joyful, chaotic way.
For a long, wonderful second, we sit there staring at one another. Me still on my knees. Him still stroking my cheek.
“Come on, Princess. There’s a whole lot more where that came from, and this time it’s got a job to do other than decorate that pretty face of yours.”
He pulls me to my feet, then walks over to the wall, shifting the dial on the lighting, dimming it just a touch before walking around the room with a pack of matches from the desk, counting out as he lights twenty-two candles that are carefully placed around the room.