He jacks himself faster. ‘Lose the bra. The rest stays, including the shoes.’ He heels off his own dress shoes and knocks back the last of his drink, placing his glass beside mine.
I toss the bra aside and roll my shoulders back, presenting my breasts to their best advantage for his greedy stare.
He struggles, but manages to tear his eyes away. ‘There’s a very comfortable-looking sofa in here.’ I follow his stare, waiting—the whole suite is sumptuous, elegant and luxurious. And the romance of tonight, the idea of giving myself to him in any way he wants and acknowledging the depth of my feelings, has me so turned on, he could take me on the parquet flooring for all I care.
‘But, for now, I think we’ll head to the bed.’
I precede him to the bedroom, allowing my hips to embrace the natural sway wearing sky-high heels provides. I’m rewarded with another groan from Reid behind me, and then I hear the clink of glass, looking back to see him collect our glasses and the bottle from the ice bucket.
‘Lie down, Blair.’ His sexy deep voice scrapes my nipples alive as I follow his command. While I wait on the bed he pours himself another glass and tops up mine, passing me the flute, watching me take a swallow and then leaning over me for a kiss, his tongue invading my fizzing mouth.
‘Mmm...tastes better on you.’
I reach for his cock, my fingers gripping the base and my hand gliding to the very tip to capture that drop of liquid, as I know he likes, because I’ve watched him do it to himself enough times.
He pulls off his shirt, his stare bouncing between my mouth, which is wet from his kiss, and my hand pumping his erection. The lazy pace is killing me, I’m feverish, the ache between my legs is almost unbearable and my nipples are hard peaks, desperate for his touch. But it’s his party. Whatever he wants goes tonight.
He seems to hear my desperation, because he slides his trousers and boxers over his hips and takes my glass from my free hand. ‘Do you want to suck it?’
‘Yes, oh, yes. Reid—don’t make me wait any longer.’
He drinks from my glass, his eyes hooded. ‘It’s all yours.’
I pounce, there’s no other word for it, bringing my mouth over the fat head of his cock to meet my still pumping hand. He grunts and his hips shunt forward as if out of his control, shoving him to the back of my throat. I pull back, my delight a hum in my throat, and swirl my tongue at the sensitive spot near the tip. He must have drained the champagne because he tosses the empty glass to the floor with a roll so it doesn’t break. One of his hands finds my hair, tangling and gripping with possessive force while the other cups me through my damp underwear.
‘And this is mine.’
It’s not a question, but I nod frantically while keeping my mouth tight around him, because I love the way it sharpens his features with pleasure.
‘I saw the way people looked at us tonight, like they were trying to figure out what you’re doing with me, but I don’t give a fuck, do you hear me? You’re mine.’
It’s so close to a declaration I’m desperate hear, I almost come there and then. But I can’t enjoy his words for long, because he yanks his hips away and joins me on the bed, grasping my thighs and spreading them wide before tugging my thong aside and burying his face between my legs.
I cry out, the lance of pleasure is so acute, but his cock is right there, still straining and I manoeuvre my body so I can stretch and take him back into my mouth.
We’re both groaning now, our mingled moans and sucking noises filling the air in an erotic aria. It’s not my best blow job—he’s eating me out with such thorough ferocity, his fingers plunging inside me while he tongues my clit, I’m surprised my lungs still work. But I’ll die, if I have to, trying to give him as much pleasure as he’s giving me.
And then it’s over for me because he pushes the tip of a finger inside my rear while he flicks my clit with the tip of his tongue and my whole world detonates. I sob my orgasm into the mattress, my fingers still squeezing him as the jerks rack me.
And then he’s sliding my underwear off and tossing my shoes over his shoulder. I’m his puppet, but I’m too languid to move for myself. His face tight with concentration, he removes one stocking and uses it to bind my wrists together before manoeuvring me onto all fours. His hands caress me from shoulders to hips, the strokes somehow both worshipful and possessive. ‘You are every fucking fantasy I’ve ever had, Blair,’ he says, pushing inside me so deep, I arch my back to take him the last inch. He pumps into me, one hand returning to my clit, where I’m still acutely sensitive.
‘Yes. And you’re mine.’ I’m dizzy at once. It’s close to what I want, but not enough, and I’m too wrung dry to act on anything besides instinct.
He pinches my clit between two fingers and I collapse forward onto my forearms as I absorb shock wave after delicious shock wave.
‘But I want more than fantasy. I want reality, too.’ He pulls out and I cry at the loss, but then he flips me onto my back and kisses me with a ferocious-sounding groan.
I lift my arms over my head out of the way and spread my thighs wide to cradle his hips. ‘Yes, hurry.’ I’m not above begging, and I’ll give him anything in that moment.
He pushes my knees back and lines himself up at my entrance, pushing just the tip inside. I loop my tied arms over his head and drag his mouth down to meet mine, whispering his name over his lips and then pushing my tongue to meet his.
Reid braces himself on one strong arm and grips the back of my neck with his other hand to keep my mouth locked with his—not that I’m going anywhere. And then he’s inching back inside, stretching me in that achingly sublime way that has me moaning and gasping into his mouth.
When he’s fully seated, he breaks from our kiss with a grunt. His face is a study in fierce need that steals my air.
‘I can’t get enough of you. Even now, buried to the hilt, I want more of you.’
‘Me too. Take more.’ Take everything.
His fingers slip back into my crease and he touches my rear once more. ‘I even want you here, but I don’t want to hurt you, so we’ll take that slowly.’
I gasp, welcoming the idea because I’m his already. ‘You can have all of me.’ I tilt my hips up so he sinks another inch and we gasp together.
My declaration seems to both thrill and galvanise him. He lowers his weight on top of me, balancing on his forearms while his hands push my wild hair back from my face. His lips brush mine and I wrap my legs around his hips as he starts to move.
It’s slow, thorough, and so intense I want to weep. But face to face, without stares locked and our pants mingling, my universe shrinks to one, pinpoint focus.
Reid.
A man I love.
His pace picks up and he shunts me with him up the slope. I cling—my lips, my arms, my legs—desperate to go wherever he takes us. He comes with a harsh cry, his face pressed to the crook of my shoulder, and I spill after him, the words I so desperately want to say lost in my cries.
Reid rolls to the side, taking me with him, spooning me from behind and enveloping me in his huge arms. His fingers loosen the stocking around my wrists while he presses kisses to the side of my face and neck. I snuggle into him, content beyond anything I could imagine, because he’s just possessed me, claimed me, shown me all I need to know. He cares. He may not be there yet, as certainly as I am, but he cares.
I’m just drifting into a deeply relaxed space-out, lulled by the hypnotic way he strokes my arm with his thumb, when he speaks, the rumble of his gruff question vibrating through my back.
‘Do