Nights with Him (Seductive Nights #4)(51)
Author: Lauren Blakely

“I chose purple because it’s a sophisticated color for a sophisticated woman,” he said, holding up the toy in the mirror.

“Nothing says sophisticated like a jeweled butt plug,” she said in a playful voice, making him laugh.

But the laughing stopped from both of them as he removed his finger and slowly, carefully inserted the plug into her rear. She tensed briefly as it stretched her. She’d had his fingers in her before, plenty of times, but this was larger and thicker. She exhaled deeply as she adjusted to the size. But then, she needed to get used to it. This toy was tiny compared to him, and she fully intended to have him there later tonight.

“How does it feel?”

“Weird. But good,” she said, and he spun her around and dropped to the floor once more, kissing the tops of her feet, then her shins, and up to her knees. He looked up at her, and his eyes blazed darkly with so much heat, so much passion, and so much unbridled lust as he worked his way up the front of her legs, kissing and licking her skin, then her inner thighs. She was hot and wet already, and he lapped up the wetness slipping down her legs.

“How am I going to make it through dinner?” she asked as he flicked his tongue once against her throbbing center, then stood up.

“The same way I am. Aroused. Stay right here,” he told her, and returned to the bedroom, then was back in seconds with the dress and underwear she’d laid out for herself on the bed. The dress was simple, a red, jersey cotton number that fit softly and well. He handed her the white lace panties, and she stepped into them as he gently lowered the dress over her head, letting it fall down to her knees.

“No bra for me?” she asked, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Don’t wear one tonight,” he said, smoothing out the dress, then reaching his hands up to cup her bottom through her panties. “But you have to wear panties as much as I’d prefer you naked under the dress,” he said, and tapped the jewel.

She gasped from the slightest movement in her rear. “It feels so good,” she whispered, like she was telling him a decadent secret.

“All I can think about, Michelle. All I can think about is you, and your perfect ass, and how much I want you.”

She eyed his towel, and the way his hard cock was tenting it.

That was her power. The effect she had on him. She wanted some power back. After too many emotions had rattled free from her heart, she needed to take. She tugged the towel off him, and his dick saluted her. He was at attention, and a drop glistened on the tip. Using her thumb, she spread that liquid on the head, watching his eyes turn hazy, his breath ragged.

“Can I fuck you with my hand before dinner?” she asked, talking to him as he’d often spoken to her. Controlling. Confident.

“You naughty girl,” he said with narrowed eyes, and she took that as a yes.

She was fully dressed, he was completely naked, and she was thoroughly in charge of his pleasure. This beautiful, controlling man was hers to touch and to tease. She reached behind her to the counter, squirted some lube into her hands, and proceeded to stroke his gorgeous cock. She needed this. She desperately needed this right now.

Slowly at first, like it was a luxury, and she wanted to savor every second. “Don’t come,” she told him sharply.

He shook his head. “I won’t,” he muttered on an upstroke that had him trying to rock faster into her hand.

“Jack,” she warned, thrilling at giving him an order. “I can’t have you coming too soon. You need to hold back.”

Nodding, his mouth fell open, his breathing intensifying as she upped her pace. He moaned and grunted, and his sexy, masculine sounds of impending pleasure ignited her insides. She used both hands, one to grip his glorious cock that slid in and out of her tight fist, the other to play with his balls.

“You want to come so badly, don’t you?” she asked. A spark raced through her body and lit up her mind as she turned the tables on him. This role reversal did wonders for her insides, physically and emotionally. It let her retrieve those dangerous words, and wind them back up inside her, as if the moment from last night had been rewound. As if the messy threat of emotions and feelings and falling too far could be stuffed neatly back into a closed drawer.

It could. Surely, it could, as she used their physical connection to return them to the world they inhabited—thirty nights of pleasure. The end was in sight.

“Yes.”

“Tell me you can wait,” she said.

“I can wait,” he choked out, as if it pained him.

“I’ll get you there. But you have to do it my way,” she said. He completely gave himself over to her, his eyes pinned on her as he rocked into her hand.

She tugged on his balls, teasing and pulling in just the way he liked, and jacked him harder and rougher. His eyes went glassy; his chest rose and fell quickly. He thickened even more in her grasp. His entire shaft was throbbing against her hand that raced up and down his long, hard length. Watching the expression on his face shift from pleasure to intense concentration, she knew he was reaching the edge. She wanted to send him off in a flurry of white-hot sparks.

“I need you to come now,” she said, her voice a command.

He groaned, a primal sound, and she moved her other hand under his balls, rubbing that spot that drove him even crazier, then pressing the tip of her finger against his ass. Not entering, but teasing, hinting.

That was all it took.

He scrunched up his brows, thrust harder and groaned loudly as he came all over her hand.

There was something about this moment that was completely necessary for Michelle’s sanity. Without it, she wasn’t sure if she could go on with him. But she’d taken back some of the control she’d lost last night.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

New

Visiting the Grand Colbert was like taking a trip back in time to an earlier Paris. Like a scene from the 1920s, the landmark restaurant lived up to its hype from the soft, golden lights to the green leather seats, to the lampposts positioned all throughout the establishment that hearkened to an earlier age. The entire restaurant was bathed in a soft orange-yellow glow.

He’d called ahead that afternoon to secure the very same table made famous in a scene in Something’s Gotta Give. It was the best table in the restaurant.

They had finished eating, both of them ordering the signature chicken dish, and he poured a third glass of wine for Michelle. She held up a hand when her glass was half full.

“That’s all you want?”

“I want to be relaxed and all loosened up, but not drunk,” she said, sliding closer to him. They were on the same side of the booth. He couldn’t stand to be far away from her, and he’d had his hands on her all throughout dinner. On her shoulder, in her hair, on her leg.