For 100 Nights (100 2)

My reward is the low, wordless sound of approval that rumbles in the back of his throat. Then the tension on my blindfold increases, slowly tipping my head back on my shoulders. Nick’s mouth descends on mine, his tongue licking at the seam of my lips before pushing inside. I moan at the sensual invasion, feeling the erotic heat of it in my core.

“Touch me,” he growls against my parted lips. “Pump my cock. Use your hands to show me how much you want me.”

I stroke him as he continues to kiss me. His tongue thrusts into my mouth in time with the pumping of his hips as I slide my hands all over him, caressing him, milking him.

Worshiping him.

I want to make him come like this, with only my hands. I want to breach the chasm that opened up between us this morning and let him know that no matter what, in spite of everything that might yet destroy us, this is real.

We are real.

I need him to know that.

I need him to feel my love, even at the risk that he’ll hate me for it one day.

He grinds out a fevered growl, breaking our kiss as my hands and fingers work his shaft. My strokes are fervent, determined, pleading.

“Yes,” he snarls. “Fuck, baby. Yeah. Just like that.”

His fist is still gripped around the ends of the tie, keeping my head tilted up to him. I feel his shaft grow harder in my grasp, the friction of my hands made slick and silky by the fluid dripping from the broad crown of his cock.

A groan rips out of him, raw and primal. I answer it with a soft whimper I cannot bite back. As good as he feels in my hands, I need more. I want to taste him. I want him inside me.

“Please.” My voice is a threadbare whisper, but I don’t care how needy I sound. I don’t care about the game of control we’re playing, or the fact that he might deny me just for breaking the rules. I lick my lips, which are still wet and swollen from his kiss. “Nick, please. Let me have you.”

He doesn’t answer, but his hold on my blindfold loosens just enough for me to tip my head back down. It’s all the permission I need. My mouth seeks him out in urgent hunger. I close my lips around the head of his cock and suck him deep.

He draws in a sharp breath. “Christ.”

He wrenches tightly in my grasp, his thighs bunching. His palm moves restlessly on the back of my head, holding me to him as I begin to fuck him with my mouth. I tongue his length, reveling in the sheer masculine power that pulses through him. The head of his cock is slick with his juices and I lavish attention there now, too, greedily lapping up every drop that spills out of him as his climax builds toward the breaking point.

He’s close. I can feel the tremor of mounting pressure that shudders through his body as he pistons and thrusts in time with my relentless caress and the questing, demanding urgency of my mouth.

He grunts, bringing both hands to the back of my head. My hair falls free from its loose bun, dropping around my shoulders as I rise up farther out of the water to take him deeper, faster, harder into my mouth.

I feel the clench of his muscles the instant before the first hot burst of semen explodes onto my tongue. He convulses, gritting my name out like a curse as he comes. I swallow another jetting stream, then draw him out of my mouth to nestle my face against his pulsing shaft.

A hard tremor tears through him with his continued release, wetting my cheek with the musky hotness of his seed.

“I love the taste of you,” I confess. “I love the feel of you on my tongue, inside me . . . all over me.”

Cradling his cock in my palms, I guide him to the tops of my breasts, milking him until he is finally spent. His body jerks, spurting the last scorching streams onto my skin.

I reach up to touch his chest, but he moves away on a harsh curse. Have I displeased him? I need to know. I lift my hands to remove my blindfold, but Nick’s hands come down firmly atop mine.

“Just

because I let you have your way, don’t think I’m finished with you yet.”

The erotic promise chases fire through my veins and straight to my sex. The water sloshes as Nick steps into the tub with me. Sinking down at the opposite end, he drags me toward him through the fragrant suds. Water laps around my stomach as he places my legs on either side of him.

“I’m the one in control tonight, Ms. Ross, remember?”

“Yes.” The word slips off my tongue like the surrender it is. “You are in control. I have none when it comes to you.”

“Good answer,” he murmurs darkly. “Let’s see if you mean it.”

His strong fingers caress my cheek before trailing down to the tops of my breasts. I catch my lip but I can’t hold back my moan as he begins to massage the earthy slickness of his ejaculate into my skin. When he traces his thumb over my parted lips, I greedily lick at him, savoring his flavor.