The Dare Collection June 2019. Rachael Stewart
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pussy with unfettered eagerness, his growls of pleasure shoving me over the edge.
With a scream, I tumbled headlong into orgasm. White-hot stars exploded across my vision, my body gripped with uncontrollable shudders as I came with a force I’d never known before.
I was vaguely aware that he was supporting my weight as I helplessly convulsed above him. At some point, my back reconnected with the chaise and gentle kisses drifted over my face even as a litany of French words drifted over me.
Dear God, Damian Mortimer speaks French.
I should’ve been disgusted by the man’s accomplishments but he’d just given me my best orgasm yet. Complaining felt petty.
Still drifting on a sea of bliss, I sighed as he rolled my stockings down my legs. When he lifted me up, I opened heavy, sated eyelids to watch him walk purposely towards the bed.
He set me down long enough to pull back the bedspread and toss away a few excess pillows before placing me in the centre of the king-sized bed.
My languor evaporated and renewed hunger spiked as I watched him unbutton his shirt and shrug it off.
His trousers quickly followed and the sight I’d yearned for while quietly hating myself for two long years, the sight of a naked, gorgeous Damian, was exposed to me. A thick sound left my throat. His gaze dropped to my hands and I realised I was clutching the bedspread in an unguarded reaction to the sight of his body.
‘Christ, you’re so fucking sexy. You’re not even touching me and I’m ready to explode.’
Intoxicated by his rabid stare, I drew my hands up my body, cupped my breasts and teased my nipples.
‘Fucking hell, Neve. What the hell are you doing?’
What was I doing?
Supposedly driving him to the brink. And yet here I was riding the edge with him. Wasn’t there a saying about revenge and digging two graves? Was I in danger of falling into the same pit I was creating for him?
I pushed the thoughts away. This afternoon, when he’d spoken about his parents, I’d made the mistake of feeling sorry for him. Until he’d harshly turned on me.
Whatever lurked in his past had moulded him into a hardened, cynical man who felt no qualms about the cruelty he spread around. Worse, he’d happily closed himself off from any sort of emotion, preferring to exist as an entity unto himself.
I would be foolish to give into empathetic emotions.
This was about sex. Nothing else.
‘If you want the torture to stop then come here and stop it.’
He toed off his shoes and socks, grabbed a stack of condoms from his trousers before shucking them off.
About to rip one condom open, I reached for it and set it to one side. I wasn’t ready to have him inside me. Not until I’d tasted him as thoroughly as he’d tasted me.
Hunger building, I crawled to the edge of the bed and crooked my finger. Two long strides brought him within touching distance.
My gaze rested on his gorgeous face, his square jaw, the sensual lips reddened by his sublime oral dexterity. The hard six-pack beautifully delineating his stomach made my mouth water as I took in the V grooves bracketing his hips, dovetailing to his thick, beautiful erection.
‘I want to suck your cock,’ I blurted. ‘Damn, I wish I could say that in French.’
With a groan, he muttered something beneath his breath.
He’d probably just translated but my need to have him in my mouth surpassed the need to hear him repeat it.
Braced on my hands, I dropped an open-mouthed kiss in the groove between his pecs. With tiny flicks of my tongue, I trailed kisses to his navel before reversing direction. A nip of one hard, flat nipple earned me a pained hiss that delivered fresh wetness between my thighs.
He jerked harder into my caress as I lavished equal attention on the twin nipple. By the time I made my way down his body to my mouth-watering destination, he was panting.
My mouth closed over the head of his cock and his stomach muscles rippled in reaction. ‘Fuck, that’s incredible,’ he groaned.
I sucked him deeper, swirling my tongue over his swollen crown. Urgent fingers gripped my hair, bore me down until he hit the back of my throat.
Clad in just the corset, with my bare bottom high in the air, I felt shamelessly sexy and erotic. Damian confirmed it a moment later by boldly gliding his hand over my rump to my soaking wet pussy. ‘Do you have any idea how fucking magnificent you look right now?’
Moaning, I sucked him enthusiastically, gliding my tongue down the underside of his shaft.
It wasn’t enough. I wanted more. So much more. But my intentions scattered to the wind as Damian slid two fingers inside me.
‘I licked you dry moments ago but you’re soaking wet again. I want it, Neve. I want that hot pussy around my cock.’
Since it was exactly what I wanted, I released him and sat back onto my knees.
His eyes were fevered, devouring pools. ‘Top or bottom, I don’t care. I just need to be inside you.’
Barely able to think straight, I glided on the condom, stealing a moment to revel in his length.
‘Now,’ he snapped impatiently.
Smiling, I reversed positions, and, with my back to him, met his gaze over my shoulder. ‘Fuck me, Damian.’
He exhaled harshly and stepped between my legs. ‘Like this?’
‘Yes. Just like this. Hard and fast.’
His hands glided over my bottom, gripped my waist hard before he leaned forward to growl in my ear. ‘Then that’s exactly how you’re going to get it.’
‘One more thing,’ I said in a voice I barely recognised as mine. ‘In French. You fuck me in French until I come.’
His low laugh dissolved into a heated groan when I widened my stance. ‘Comme tu veux, ma chérie.’
He notched the head of his cock against my core and rammed in deep. My scream drowned his groan as he gripped my hips and seated himself fully inside me.
We both froze, frantically catching our breaths. ‘Mon Dieu, tu te sens incroyable.’ As the words tumbled from his lips, he ground his hips into my ass, the head of his cock nudging almost painfully at my end.
My fingers convulsed in the sheets. ‘God, yes!’
Triggered by my pleasure, Damian began to thrust, deep, hard strokes that tapped into hedonistic bliss.
He fucked me like the ravenous beast I’d turned him into and I welcomed every single inch of him, turned inside out by the thrill of living out this fantasy.
Decadent words tumbled from his lips and I fleetingly regretted the command for him to speak in French because I wanted to understand what he was saying. Nevertheless it added another dimension to the pleasure, and before I knew it the sizzling fire building inside exploded into an inferno. ‘I’m coming. Oh, God, I’m coming.’
He grunted words I took to be encouragement, his speech slurring as he pistoned harder inside me.
Bliss tore through me. I tumbled over the edge. A moment later, Damian followed, his harsh pants filling the room as he emptied himself inside me.
When I collapsed onto the bed, he followed. I welcomed his weight, a small part of my brain craving that contact, that need not to feel so alone. And when he rolled us and caught me in his arms, I gladly went.
Even though I knew that moment was fleeting, this intimacy only imagined.