Dirty Devil / The Fling. Stefanie London

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      ‘No.’ He sounded strangled, the muscles of his thighs like iron beneath my other hand.

      ‘But why?’ His skin was very hot and silky too. I touched him again, stroking him with my fingertips, and he made a rough, deep sound, his hand coming down to cover mine.

      ‘Because women like it. And so do I.’ He guided my fingers to the head of his cock. ‘It doesn’t hurt when you touch it either.’ The words were no longer smooth, but rough-edged.

      He was liking what I was doing to him.

      My mouth was dry and I swallowed, my own breathing coming faster as I stroked his velvety skin then cautiously touched the ring. Then, curious, I tugged gently on it.

      He hissed, and I looked up sharply, worried for a second that I’d hurt him, despite what he’d told me.

      Except it wasn’t pain that I saw as his gaze slammed into mine. Only a raw heat that stole the remaining breath from my body.

      ‘You want to suck me, then do it,’ he said roughly. ‘But you have to let me know now if you want the ring in or out.’

      ‘You can take it out?’

      ‘Yeah. If you want it in, don’t worry. I’ll be careful with your mouth. I know what I’m doing, okay?’

      Of course. He’d probably done this a lot. But I didn’t need to think about what I wanted. I knew already.

      I eased my fingers around his shaft, running my thumb up the underside of it, loving how he hissed again, muttering a curse under his breath. ‘Do you like it in?’ I asked. ‘Because I do.’

      ‘Then do it.’ His voice was harsh. ‘Suck me, Sugar.’

      I didn’t need to be told. I wasn’t sure how to do this, but for the moment that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I was hungry and I wanted to taste him. Wanted his heat inside me, chasing the shadows away.

      So I tightened my grip and leaned in, touching my tongue to the head of his cock, licking him experimentally.

      He made a deep sound of masculine approval, the tension in his body vibrating under my palms, so I did it again, tasting him. His flavour was rich and salty and suddenly I was starving for more.

      I licked around the sensitive head, holding on tight, teasing the ring then playing a little with it, and he groaned.

      It echoed through me, settling down between my thighs, making the hungry ache that pulsed there even worse. Because for once in my life I wasn’t hiding. I wasn’t passing by unnoticed.

      I had his attention. I was right in the spotlight. And it made me feel brave.

      So I lifted my gaze to his as I slid him deep into my mouth, sucking gently, wanting to see the expression on his face. It was tight, his features drawn in harsh lines, almost a snarl twisting his beautiful mouth. His gaze was electric and there was nothing of the charming storyteller I’d seen on the terrace in him at all now. This was nothing but raw, primal masculinity.

      A shiver coursed through me, my sex throbbing.

      If this was what a blow job was like every time, then I could get used it.

      I held his gaze as I sucked him, watching pleasure blaze like a fire in his eyes, and he watched me in return, so intently it was as if he was trying to imprint me onto his memory.

      A sliver of doubt crept under my skin, a bone-deep instinct murmuring that the way this man was looking at me could put my entire livelihood in danger.

      But for once I couldn’t bring myself to care. I didn’t want to be like Mr Chen, dying alone, unnoticed and un-mourned by anyone except me. I wanted to have one person remember me, just one. To feel as though I’d been part of the world in some small way.

      Blackwood lifted his hands. His long fingers were in my hair and I braced myself for him to hold on tight. But he didn’t. He simply pulled his fingers gently through my hair over and over, his hips beginning to move as I sucked.

      ‘Yes,’ he murmured, his voice hot, dark and rich, like melted chocolate. ‘Yes, Sugar. That’s so good.’

      All thoughts of Mr Chen vanished. The note of heat in the words stroked down my spine like a touch, the ache between my legs intensifying. I gripped him tighter, sucking harder.

      ‘Fuck, yeah.’ He spread his fingers out, cradling my head, massaging my skull. ‘Love the way you’re doing that. Fucking unbelievable.’

      Something shifted inside me at the praise, something vulnerable and needy. I sucked even harder, teasing the ring with my teeth, and he groaned, his hips moving faster, sliding his cock deeper.

      His features were twisted in agonised pleasure and he still didn’t look away from me, his fingers firm on my scalp. He was looking at me as if he’d never seen anything like me before in his whole life. ‘You’re going to make me come, Sugar,’ he growled. ‘Is that what you want? Are you going to take everything I give you?’

      I couldn’t do anything but nod, because I did. I wanted to make him come; I wanted the hot taste of him to scare away the dark.

      And he was as good as his word; he was careful of me as he began to thrust harder, holding me steady. I gripped him tight with one hand, the other spread on his rock-hard thigh for balance, sucking hard as he gave one last deep thrust then came, a growling curse escaping him, his head going back, his hips shuddering.

      I swallowed him down, thick and hot and salty, watching the tension in his face, the cords of his neck tight, his jaw rigid.

      Because, if I wanted him to remember me, I wanted to remember him too. Damian Blackwood in my power, brought to the edge by little old me.

       Don’t get too confident. Remember what you’re here to do.

      Realisation washed through me, cold and unwelcome.

      Oh, yes, that’s right. The necklace. No matter what I’d done to Blackwood, I still hadn’t finished here.

      The silence had deepened around us, punctuated only by the faint thump of the music outside and the sound of his harsh breathing. The salty, masculine scent of his body surrounded me, underlain by that warm spice.

      The ache between my thighs was hot, demanding.

       Get up and run. Now. While he’s still recovering.

      But my legs felt rubbery and his hand was still in my hair, stroking me, and I didn’t want to move. Besides, if I ran now, I wouldn’t get the necklace and not being able to fulfil a client’s request wouldn’t exactly help keep Mr Chen’s business afloat.

      No, I needed to stay. Occupy Blackwood’s attention enough that he wouldn’t ask me awkward questions, then wait until he eventually went to sleep so I could have some time to look around without being interrupted.

      He was leaning back against the window now, his eyes half-closed, his impressive chest rising and falling with his quickened breaths. His fingers were still moving in my hair, massaging my scalp gently, and it СКАЧАТЬ