Late Call (Call #1)(64)
Author: Emma Hart

I’m laughing as I dance, but I’m more aware of him that anything I’m doing or feeling. I’m more conscious of the way he’s fiddling with the cufflink at his right wrist, the way his lips are curved into a wanting smirk, and the way his eyes shamelessly roam over my body. More than that, more than all three things put together, I’m aware of the gradual darkening of the blue hue of his irises. I’m aware of the building lust and need and raw sexuality that swirl in them, reaching out to me and surrounding me.

And they do. Surround me. Completely and utterly.

My body heats to an unimaginable level, and every part of me begs to be touched by him. Tingles, tugs, wanting trembles… They overtake me again and again, leaving my skin covered in goose bumps and my heart pounding.

Then his eyes meet mine. They finish their visual caress of my body and find mine in a heated collision that makes me stop dead. It takes my breath away—the intensity in his gaze. It makes me brave and shy and wanton all at the same time in a crazy mix of conflicting emotion.

He steps closer and reaches out to me. This time, I let him rest his hands on my waist and lift me from the table. I take a deep breath. He runs his fingers up my arm and across my shoulder, teasing the skin at my neck as they find their way to my jaw.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispers, his voice husky.

“You. Just you.”

“No.” He brings his body flush against mine. “More. Tell me what you want me to do you.” His fingers slide around my body to cup my butt, creeping beneath my dress. He brings it around slowly, drawing a path with his thumb from hip to hip, skimming the top of my underwear. “Do you want me to touch you here?”

I part my lips at the touch of his fingertips sliding beneath the material and curl my fingers into his shirt. “Yes.”

“How? Like this?” He rubs his thumb across my clit, drawing a sharp breath from me. “Or like this?” Two fingers slip inside me effortlessly, stretching me. He curls them at the tips, hitting my sweet spot, and drags them across it like he knows.

“Oh. That.” I release his shirt and sink my fingers into his hair. I’m gripping it so tightly I know I’m pulling it, but he gives me no indication of it. And all I can truly feel are his fingers inside me.

“You sure?” He slides his other hand down my back, undoing my zipper.

I’m left feeling empty when he pulls his fingers from me to slide my dress down my body. The emptiness leaves as his eyes trace me from head to toe, only to be replaced with an all-consuming need that roars through me.

“So f**king beautiful,” he murmurs at my neck, dropping kisses across my collarbone.

I drop my head as he travels downward, tracing along the curve of my breast and down my stomach. His hot breath covers my aching pu**y, and I know where he’s going even before he hooks his fingers in the waistband of my panties and slides them down my legs.

I tremble beneath his touch with nothing to hold on to in order to steady myself, and my knees buckle as he kisses up my thigh.

“Or is this what you want?” He kisses just above my clit. “My mouth… My tongue… Here. Licking your pu**y and teasing your clit until you come so hard you see black? Is this what you want?”

His hand cups me, his finger rubbing over me. I groan and reach down to his head.

“Tell me what you want, Dayton.”

“Get up,” I demand, tugging at his hair. “Up.”

He stands slowly, dragging his mouth up my body as he does. His breathing picks up speed as I deftly undo each button on his shirt and ease it over his shoulders. It silently falls to the floor behind him, and I press my mouth to his chest. Over his heart. It pounds beneath my touch, and I settle my hands at his waist as I let my tongue travel across his body.

It’s a full adventure from his pecs to his waistband, and I take advantage of every dip and rise of his muscles as my tongue explores him. I unbuckle his belt and undo his pants without taking my lips from his body. He tenses beneath my touch as I pull them down, his boxers included, and free his raging erection.

“Fuck,” Aaron mutters at the first touch of my lips at the base of his cock. I wrap my fingers around him and take him into my mouth, my tongue flicking against him.

I work him, my only objective his pleasure, needing to feel his release inside me. My pu**y or my mouth. I don’t care. I run my tongue along the side of his shaft, reveling in the way he works his fingers into my hair and groans my name, and lick the drop of pr**cum from the end of his cock.

“Dayton,” he rasps again when I brush my fingers across his sac. His balls tighten in my grip as I squeeze lightly, and he groans deep in his throat, pulling his hips back and lifting me.

“Kiss me.”

His tongue plunges into my mouth and he kisses me feverishly. His hands run across my body desperately, and when they stop at the top of my thighs, I feel his fight not to touch me. Not to take control of this.

I pull away and walk backward. He follows me to the bedroom and drops his eyes when I unclip my bra. I slide it down my arms, freeing my br**sts, and my ni**les pucker beneath his gaze.

The bed is soft as I lie back on it, and Aaron stands at the end of the bed, just watching me. Waiting. His chest heaving with the force of being controlled.

The familiar feeling rushes through my veins, mixed with desire and heat.

I want to push him.

I want to see how far he’ll go until he breaks and takes back control of my body.

With my eyes on his, I trail a finger down my breastbone. His chest heaves and he swallows as I run it beneath the curve of my br**sts, teasing but not really touching. His gaze follows my finger as I trace small, lazy circles across my stomach.

Slowly, I take it lower.

His breathing gets even heavier and his c**k twitches. He wraps his hand around it and my body reacts immediately. I feel the wetness pooling between my legs, and my lungs constrict at the sight of him standing before me. Powerful. Sexual. Almost primal.

I stop my finger just above the mound that dips to my pu**y and wait for him to say something. He tightens his grip on himself, and eyes so dark they’re almost black take mine captive.

“Do it,” he growls. “But when you come, your hand will be replaced by my mouth.”

I don’t dispute it or argue as my hand dips lower. My lips part as my finger finds my swollen clit, and it almost feels alien to touch it myself. It’s been so long since I had to do this that I almost want to pull away and demand that he skip the waiting and just get his mouth down there right the f**k now.