“Still, it’s rude to keep your vice presidents waiting.” She finds my nipples, toys with them for long, drawn-out seconds that are half-torture, half-pleasure and all ecstasy.
“Fuck my vice presidents.”
“And here I thought I was the one you wanted to fuck.” She laughs against my mouth and the warm vibrations of it send shock waves of need down my spine. I’ve barely touched her and already I’m so close to coming that I have to run numbers in my head to try to keep myself from going over the edge. Determined to make her as hot as I am, I slide one hand under her robe to grab the lush warmth of her ass and use the other to slip inside the gaping front of her robe to thumb over first one of her nipples and then the other.
She gasps. Shifts against me. Then shrugs off my hands. “Not this time,” she whispers against my skin as she slips off my lap onto the floor between my knees. “This time, I’m the one in control.”
Her words shoot through me like a flare, lighting up every nerve ending in my fucking body even as they make me wary. Because this isn’t how it is between us. It isn’t how things work. From the very beginning, Chloe has given control over to me. Even when she was scared, even when she needed to be on top so that she could feel free, she’s yielded to me, let me be the one to make her feel good. I’m more than willing to give control over to her for a little, but I need to make sure she’s okay. Make sure she’s taken care of all the time. And with the way her touch is clouding my brain right now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to do that.
I’m about to tell her to stop, to ask her if she’s sure, when she presses a long, warm, lingering kiss right below my navel. “Don’t look so worried,” she tells me with a wicked little grin, her fingers busy working on my belt. “I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”
I cup her cheek in my palm, and—using every ounce of willpower I have—wait for her to stop what she’s doing and look up at me. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“I know. But I’m okay, baby. I promise. You make me okay.”
Fuck. I close my eyes so she won’t see how gutted I am by her words…and by the trust she places in me. I love this woman, adore her, need her like I need the blood that runs through my veins.
I keep my eyes closed as she unbuckles my belt, undoes my pants. And then she’s tugging my pants and underwear down to the top of my thighs and I know if I look at her now it will be too much. I’ll lose it before she even touches me.
But then I hear a small snap and my eyes fly open in time to see Chloe pouring cinnamon scented oil into her hand. She must have had the bottle in her pocket because there’s no way I would have missed it if it had been sitting on the kitchen table next to my coffee cup.
“You planned this,” I manage to grind out as she drops the bottle on the table and begins rubbing the lube between her palms.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answers, right before she licks the tip of her index finger. “Mmm. Good choice, Ethan. It’s delicious.” She sucks the finger deeper into her mouth and I nearly lose it completely as my dick jerks against my stomach.
I want to grab on to her, to pull her back onto my lap so I can bury myself in her and teach her just what this kind of teasing will get her. But I can’t do that to her, not when her sense of her own sexuality is still so fragile. And not when she’s having such a good time teasing me.
So I grab on to the edges of my seat instead of grabbing on to her and pray my self-control is as good as I think it is.
Chloe watches me through half-closed eyes, a sexy little smirk on her face as she gives a quick shrug that has her robe falling to the floor at her feet.
“Fuck.” The word falls, unplanned, from my lips and it’s as much a prayer as it is a curse. For long secon
ds, she doesn’t move. Instead, she just stands there, watching me watch her and it’s one of the sexiest moments I’ve ever experienced.
Under my admiring gaze, her skin flushes a delightful pink and her nipples grow hard. Her breathing gets a little ragged and a fine tremor wracks her, making her whole body shake just a little. She’s beautiful like this, soft and sexy and so fucking gorgeous that my own breathing pattern is thrown a little off. Hell, a lot off.
Fuck self-control.
I pry a hand from where my fingers are wrapped around the seat of the chair and she leans forward and begins rubbing her oiled up hands along my cock in slow, thorough strokes that have my eyes crossing and my hips arching off the chair.
“Chloe. Please.” No amount of willpower or self-control is going to be able to save me if she keeps this up. “I—” My voice breaks and I suck in huge gulps of air, trying to get enough oxygen to steady my breathing. But she’s only getting started, and as her fingers glide down my cock to my testicles, I nearly beg. For her to stop, for her to continue. I don’t know at this point and to be honest, I don’t really care. How can I when she’s cupping my balls in her hands, rubbing her oiled-up thumb against them as she leans forward and presses wet, openmouthed kisses over my abdomen and down my V-cut.
I’m not sure what feels better at this point—her hands or her mouth. All I know is that heat is sizzling down my spine, along my most sensitive nerve endings and I feel like I’m being burned alive.
Chloe turns her head, swipes her tongue along the length of my dick and my whole body goes from really amped up to balancing on the edge. My balls tighten. My cock throbs. The urge to come is nearly overwhelming.
I fight it back. No matter how hot Chloe is, no matter how perfectly she’s touching me, I have more self-control than a kid with his first girl. Or at least that’s the lie I’m telling myself right now.
I grind my teeth, clench my fists, search for control where there isn’t any. Chloe laughs, low and sultry and hot. So fucking hot. She’s well aware of my predicament, knows exactly what she’s doing. And she’s enjoying the hell out of tormenting me.
I’m such a control freak that the knowledge should piss me off, but instead it only makes me hotter. Only makes me want her more.
And then she pulls back just enough to fasten her warm, soft, wet mouth around my cock and I know it’s a losing battle.
“Chloe, please—” I tangle my fingers in her hair, tug gently. I’m not sure if I’m trying to get her to pull off or to take me deeper. I know only that if she stays like this I’m going to lose my mind one slow pulse of pleasure at a time. “Baby, I—”
By now, she knows what I need better than I do, though, because suddenly she takes more of me, sucking me deeper, deeper, deeper, until the head of my dick hits the back of her throat. She hums softly, her tongue stroking back and forth against the underside of my cock before she slowly, slowly, slowly pulls back. She pauses for a few moments, circles the head of my dick with her tongue a few times before flicking the bottom of her tongue, fast and hard, over the very tip. I call her name, my voice low and strained and guttural, but she just sucks me deep again.