Page 47 of Devil's Thirst
“You have toys?” he asks, ignoring my question.
“You mean a vibrator? Yeah, in the nightstand.” I may not orgasm, but it still feels good.
“Get it.”
I do as I’m told while keeping a curious eye on him as he moves the corner chair next to my bed and props the mirror against it.
He takes off his jacket and begins rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “Take off your clothes.”
I can’t believe I’m going along with this, but he has me in his thrall. I’m desperate to go wherever he’s taking me.
He crawls onto the bed and sits with his legs wide in front of the mirror. “Come here.” He pats the space in front of him while his eyes devour every inch of my body.
I know I’m thin—so much so that it’s a turnoff for some men. That’s the nature of someone with my passion for dance. I’ve worked hard to achieve this level of ability, and it thrills me beyond words that his appreciation for what he sees is palpable.
I snag my finger inside the band of my pink panties and tug them off, leaving me completely bare for his ravenous gaze. I feel a tad awkward climbing into his lap, especially when I’m seated staring at my naked reflection with Sante fully clothed behind me.
His left hand presses flat against my belly, guiding me to lie back against him.
My heart bounds around in my chest like a Ping-Pong ball on meth, nearly imploding when Sante’s voice rumbles a one-word command.
“Open.”
I know what he means, but it feels so lewd. So vulnerable. It’s hard to make myself comply.
I stare myself down in the mirror and slowly coax my legs apart, giving us both a clear view of my dripping pussy.
A primal growl of approval reverberates from his chest into mine.
“That’s my girl. Already weeping for me.”
I fear I might do a lot more than that to hear him call me his girl in that tone again. It makes my heart so light I might have levitated off the bed for a second. Every inch of my body begs for his touch. I know it’s coming, or … I thought I knew. What he does instead surprises me.
“Show me what feels good.” He picks up the vibrator and places it in my hand.
Embarrassment showers me from head to toe.
He wants me to touch myself … while hewatches? I can’t. That’s too awkward. It’ll never wor—
My thoughts evaporate when I catch sight of the captivated delight in his eyes. He’s transfixed. The knowledge that I have that effect on him does something to me. Emboldens me. Heals me.
I spread myself slightly with one hand and use the other to tease circles with the tip of the vibrator around the sides of my clit. The intensity of the sensation startles a gasp from my lungs. I arch into the pleasure with my lips parted in ecstasy.
“You make my cock so hard it might never go soft again.Jesus, you’re incredible.” He trails a hand along my thigh. My brain glitches as it tries to focus on the two sensations at once.
“God, Sante. It feels so good.” I dip the vibrator tip into my entrance, then go back up to my swollen bundle of nerves. When his other hand crosses in front of me and cups my breast, my eyes roll back in delirium.
“Eyes open, pet,” he purrs before thick fingers twist my nipple. The zing of pure liquid pleasure is so intense that my legs twitch in unison.
“That’s it. Keep those emerald eyes open and see what this beautiful body can do. Watch me watching you. I know you like it. Like seeing my hands touch you in ways no one else has. See me witness you move in ways no one else has seen you move.”
The hand he was using to caress my thigh drifts upward over my hip bone and to my other breast. I work myself faster, feeling the need for more friction. My breathing now comes in haphazard pants. Sante’s knuckles graze the undersides of my breasts in tandem. I arch with need, but he continues to tease by avoiding the pebbled skin so desperate for his touch.
“Please, Sante.Please.”
“Please what, pet? I’ll give you what you need just as soon as you’re ready.”
“I need more.” I don’t know what that means. I’ve never felt this mind-bending sense of urgency before to be able to decipher it. All I know is that I’m filled with need—a chaotic, consuming need that threatens to annihilate me in the very best way.