Page 97 of PS: I Hate You
Dom’s chest rises and falls in slow, heavy breaths.
And finally, the man undoes the button on his jeans and tugs down the zipper. But since he is a man of order, Dom reroutes, pulling his shirt over his head in one smooth move.
I bite my lip to keep from groaning at the sight of his bare chest. Plenty of nights over these past months, I’ve lain in bed thinking of the time when he pulled me into the pool and I ended up wrapped around him. I would imagine dragging my nails down over his taut skin as he tugged my sleep shorts to the side and slipped inside me while the water cradled us.
But I don’t need to imagine tonight, because he’s reclined in front of me, toeing off his shoes and shoving down his pants and briefs. In the quiet room, I hear the slap of his erection popping free and hitting his stomach. Dom’s tip is ruddy, and I wonder if there’s any pain mixed in with his pleasure. If he’s so hard that he’s desperate for me to ease him.
The idea has me licking my lips. But before I approach, I return the favor and take off my clothes, too. Quickly, because I’m not in a teasing mood.
Bare, I fall to my knees in front of him.
“Hell,” Dom mutters, and I love the irresponsible words I make him say.
As I grip his base firmly with one hand, I let the other slide down my body. As I set the head on my bottom lip, I part my intimate folds. As I lick the precum off his tip, I find my needy clit. As I draw him in with deep, wet sucks, I press and rub myself.
He tastes heady, not like any food, only like sex and wanting and years of need. From the corner of my eye, I watch the way his fingers fist the soft comforter, knuckles turning white.
My clitoris hums with a pulse of its own as I stroke. Moans spillfrom my throat and vibrate against Dom’s cock as I suck him down slow and breathe deep through my nose.
“Maddie.” He says my name with disbelief. “Are you…Fuck. You’re fingering yourself right now?” He chokes on his question when I spread my legs wider so he can see. “Goddamn it!”
That’s just the start of his irresponsible language. Apparently, when Dom gets turned on, he transforms into a sailor. He can’t seem to help his foul mouth as I swallow him as deep as I can and massage my clit just how I like.
Dom’s hips rock once with a particularly hard pull, then he stills himself, muscles quivering with the effort to hold back.
A sense of power mixes in with my pleasure, and I briefly understand Dom’s need for control in all things.
“I need to fucking touch you,” he growls even as his one hand fists my loose hair into a ponytail and the other cradles the back of my neck. Again, he doesn’t try to take over the rhythm—only holds on as I work him at my pace.
The raw craving in Dom’s words spikes my own arousal, and I let his cock slip from my mouth, the length slapping wetly against his stomach. Meanwhile, I dig my teeth into the salty-with-sweat skin of his hip bone as my sudden orgasm rocks through me. I gasp and whimper and try to remember to breathe.
“Fuck, Maddie. Let me feel.”
As the pleasure rolls and clenches through my nerves, Dom hauls me off the floor and across his chest. Then he shoves a hand between my legs like he did earlier, his large hot palm engulfing my vulva. His scorching, reverent touch lengthens the tail of the pleasure, and my hips writhe.
Dom doesn’t penetrate me or even try to stroke my clit. He just revels in the way my body shudders through the orgasm.
Once I settle into a shivering post-orgasm recovery, I realize my mistake.
Damn it. This wasn’t the plan.
“You were supposed to come first.” I grit the words out, pissed at myself for falling into this pattern again.
“How about I come next?” Dom asks, his face buried against my neck. “And then we stop keeping score and just do what feels good?”
Easy for him to say. He’s winning.
I wriggle out of his embrace and settle beside him on the smaller bed. His erection lays heavy against his stomach, the skin still wet from my mouth. When I grasp him, Dom’s body jerks and he grunts.
“Use my hand on yourself,” I tell him.
“What?”
“Jerk yourself off. With my hand.”
I’ve always thought masturbation was an intimate act. Getting to know exactly what your partner needs from a sexual experience.
I want Dom to be vulnerable with me. Crack open this part of himself so I know. So I have some kind of ownership over even this small portion of his pleasure.