Love Her or Lose Her (Hot & Hammered #2)(67)

It wasn’t a large table by any stretch, so Rosie’s head tipped over the other side, affording her an upside-down view of Manhattan. Buildings as close as across the street, windows with their lights on and off. People moving in their depths. Could they see her? She had no idea. Would she mind if they did? The excitement spinning all across her skin like pinwheels said no. No, she definitely didn’t mind. Just like on the dance floor, she welcomed the hint of rebellion. Welcomed the chance to stretch her wings and measure the span.

Dominic circled around the table at an unhurried pace. His finger slipped down the folds between her legs, making her cry out, but he only trailed the moisture he collected around her belly button, her nipples. And then he was even with her face, dragging the thick head of his erection across her panting mouth.

“I want one good, deep push inside that beautiful mouth. Just to get me wet for stroking. Don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from beating off while I tongue your little clit.”

Rosie’s hips twisted on the table, the body part in question desiring friction. Relief. Now now now. At the same time, her mouth was starved for the taste of Dominic, so she parted her lips and let him sink in a couple inches. She moaned around his flesh, and his progress halted.

“Shhh. Relax and take it deeper.” He eased his hips forward, stretching her lips around his girth, air escaping him in growling bursts. “More?”

Incapable of vocalizing that yes, yes, she wanted every inch of him, she reached back and buried her fingernails into his backside, urging him closer, deeper.

“Fuck,” he roared, gripping the base of his arousal and drawing it back out, leaving it perched on her lips as his belly heaved. “You feel so good. So good. One more push. I need it.”

He drove back into her mouth cautiously, but still faster than last time, stopping when he hit resistance and the salt of him traveled down her throat. The sound and feel of his pleasure were an instantaneous addiction and she needed more. It had been so long since they’d fulfilled each other the way they needed. The way they required.

“Look at you, enjoying the shit out of it,” he gritted, tapping his hard flesh against her lips a few times. “Tell me to stop, Rosie.”

“One more,” she whispered, the second word cut off by her husband entering her mouth on a groan, his thickness taking up every corner, his belly hair tickling her chin.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted, freeing himself and rounding the table in one long step. He fell to his knees and pressed her legs open, diving in for a devastating lick that exploited her swollen clit and brought Rosie’s back off the table in a violent arch.

“Dominic. Oh my God. Yes. Yes.” His thumbs massaged their way from her knees, down her inner thighs, where they met at her juncture. Gently, those same thumbs took turns rubbing her clit, one after the other, before his tongue took over and flickered against her nub, not stopping, never stopping until she was slapping the table with the flats of her hands and sobbing his name. “Suck. Please.”

It shouldn’t have made her even hotter when he laughed and changed the pattern of his tongue’s soft jabs, but it did. Her hips wouldn’t stay still, and a low, carnal twist started in the lowest part of her belly and wrapped around her limbs like tentacles. She threw her head back over the edge of the table and felt herself soaring over the city, unstoppable and strong—and when Dominic’s lips closed around her clit and applied just the right amount of suction, the buildings splintered in front of her eyes, light fragmenting in every direction. Of their own accord, her thighs wrapped around his head and she screamed.

That scream was still echoing in the room when she was dragged off the table onto the floor, onto her hands and knees. A shaking hand pressed her cheek into the carpet and jerked her hips up. No amount of preparation could make her ready for Dominic’s invasion of her body. It was forceful and glorious, his hard length entering her so quickly and with such ferocity, her knees left the ground and plummeted back down, wider than before, shoved that way by masculine hands. A working man’s hands. Her husband’s hands.

“I loved you dancing in that dress. Looking so free. Like you could do anything. You can, honey girl.” He reared back with his hips and reentered her with a savage thrust, his muscular chest slapping down on her back so he could talk directly into her ear. “But you knew this was coming. You knew looking like a jack-off fantasy in front of other men would cost you.”

Did he speak the truth? Yes. Yes, the anticipation of Dominic’s reaction was part of the reason for tonight’s excitement. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to help it. This attraction between them had a nature all its own. One of those rare things in life where the frustration and strife were always worth the payoff. Taking her husband inside her body always sent her on a thrill ride, but she wasn’t trying to hold back her enjoyment this time in anticipation of the loneliness that usually came after. There was understanding and broken-down barriers between them now. She’d been honest with him, and in turn, her body did the same.

Rosie pushed a moan through her bared teeth, dropping her head forward to watch her breasts bounce again and again as Dominic pounded into her from behind. She watched his substantial length enter between the upside-down V of their legs. Could have gone on watching it forever, especially when the fingers of his left hand started massaging her clit, his drives turning hard and punishing, his tunneling shaft finding that secret spot deep inside her and teaching it a lesson. Owning it. Her.