Sweet Sinful Nights(55)

“You’re a f*cking vixen seductress,” he said on a low hum.

“I know, and you love it.”

“I do,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

“Show me. Show me what I missed. Show me what I would have walked in on if I had come over some night when you were fantasizing about me,” she said, her body in synch with every beat of the music.

He motioned for her to come closer. “C’mon. I want your hands on me. I want your lips on me. I want to feel you.”

“You will. But right now, give me this,” she said in a pleading tone, running her hands along his thighs as she wiggled her ass high in the air. She unsnapped the button of his jeans, and there were no more questions. She was winning. She was having her way. His dick ached with the need to be touched. If he had to do it himself, then that was what he’d do.

He unzipped his jeans, freeing his erection.

The look in her eyes was one for the ages. Her lips parted and she breathed heavily, sighing in admiration as he wrapped his hand around his cock. Finally some relief at last from the throbbing. The chorus of the song built, and she backed away, returning to the center of the room, inching up her skirt, revealing her panties.

Moving. Dancing. Swaying.

So f*cking sensual. So incredibly seductive.

Her body was a dream.

Her eyes feasted on him with each thrust of her pelvis, each sway of her hips. The way she gazed at him unleashed tremors of pleasure inside him, knowing she was savoring the sight of his hand on his cock. His fantasy—her stripping for him as he enjoyed the view—was her fantasy too.

He stroked himself, harder, faster, not needing much right now because he was so damn aroused already. She unzipped her dress, letting the straps slide down her arms, then to her waist, revealing those twin globes of gorgeous flesh.

“Bring those beautiful tits to me,” he growled out, and she came to him, sinking down on his thigh, rubbing herself on him as she brought her breasts closer. In all the times he’d been with her this go-around, he hadn’t seen her breasts, so lush and full. Now, they were on display for him.

“Anything for you,” she whispered as she pushed them in his face. His tongue darted out, sampling a rosy peak. “Mmm,” he murmured as he licked her nipple, then drew her deeper into his mouth.

Then, she pulled away from him returning to her dance. “More,” she said, tipping her chin to his crotch. “I love watching you.”

“Yeah? You like knowing what you did to me when you were gone?” He shuttled his hand harder, working his fist over his dick as he had many times while picturing her. “You like knowing this is how I was? Rock hard and worked up for you?”

“Yes,” she said, as she pushed her dress past her hips, showing him the top of her panties. White lacy panties. Blood pounded in his cock as he gripped himself.

“Look what you do to me. You get me so crazy with wanting you. You love turning me on. You move your hips--I’m hard. You walk into the room--I’m ready to take you. God forbid you bend down to pick up something that dropped. You don’t even want to know what’s going through my head.”

“Oh, I do. I do want to know,” she said, sliding the dress past her panties, letting it fall on the floor.

His hand tugged harder. His breathing grew unsteady. “Grabbing your hair, pushing you against a chair. Lifting your ass in the air, and sinking deep into your sweet, wet *.”

It was her turn to moan, a throaty, feminine moan that made his balls tighten. She returned to him, clad only in her panties and the shoes he’d bought for her. “I love watching you touch yourself, knowing you’re thinking of f*cking me.”

“I’m always thinking of f*cking you, Shannon,” he said, on an upstroke. His spine tingled as she resumed her lap dance, her heat mercilessly close to his dick. He was going to come soon.

All over his hand.

He let go of his grip, and grabbed her hips instead, holding her as she hovered over him. She froze mid-grind. “You stopped,” she said, surprised.

He nodded. “I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not coming in my motherf*cking hand. I’ll get on the flight blue-balled and arrive in New York in the morning with a raging hard-on that hurts. But I’m not coming with you for the first time in ten years in my own goddamn hand.”

A wicked grin lit up her face. She licked her lips. “We can’t have that, can we?”

“No. We can’t have that at all.”

She leaned in, her breasts pressed to his chest, her mouth on his jaw. “Let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”

“Show me now,” he said, and she dropped to her knees and wrapped her lips around him. He groaned so damn loudly from pleasure, from the absolute otherworldly bliss of those lips. She was an angel of mercy tonight. She didn’t tease. She didn’t lick the tip. She drew him deep, taking him all the way, and he threw back his head and moaned.

“You did miss me,” he said, as pleasure ricocheted through him. “Show me how much. Show me how much you missed sucking me.”

He laced his hands through her hair, curling his fingers around her head as she bobbed up and down. The friction was intense, as her mouth sucked tight and her tongue became a wicked instrument of carnal pleasure. She was a vision, with her hair spread across his thighs, and her lips full and ripe. Only one thing would make this better right now. One thing would make this the blow job of a lifetime.