The Lover Beneath Me(39)

“Daimon, don't make me,” she whispered.

“Look,” I growled as I reached between her legs. She let out a breath as she veered away from the full-length mirror that sat in front of us. “Addie, look.”

With my other hand, I reached for her neck forcing her to gaze into the mirror. With the hand that lay between her legs, I slowly massaged her clit as I watched her look at herself, then at me through our reflection. “See what I see,” I said roughly, as I played with her. Her sweet juices began to flow, the slick sounds filling the room.

I brought the hand that was wrapped around her neck to her jaw and locked her in place, forcing her to watch me play with her. Dipping my fingers inside her pussy, she clenched around my fingers, her juices overflowing. “Do you see it, Addie, that stunning face of yours? I see it every time I touch you. It’s exquisite. It’s beautiful. It’s you.”

“Daimon, please,” she pleaded as she tried to move, but I held her there, making her a prisoner of my embrace.

“See my fingers disappear inside you. Watch me. Feel me. God, Addie, say it, say you’re beautiful.” I began to lose control as I moved faster. But Addie didn't answer. “I said say it.” I held her jaw tighter, her body eased as she mewled.

“I'm beautiful,” she let out between her moans.

“Yes, yes you are,” I said huskily.

“Daimon,” she cried out.

“Come, baby, come,” I ordered.

Addie came all over my fingers; her body convulsing in my arms. Her head titled, lying on my shoulder. Removing my fingers from her pussy, I brought my fingers to her mouth. “Taste yourself.”

Addie licked her lips. Her head falling forward, her mouth opened, eager to savor her essence. She licked at my fingers, her warm tongue slipping around. “See you even taste good,” I murmured to her. Addie eased my hand out of her mouth and slowly fell on her knees before me. I watched her intently as she reached for my belt and slowly undid it. She unbuttoned my suit pants, her eyes only looking at what she was doing.

My cock jolted as I saw her tongue dart out. She unzipped my pants and fished out my cock. I leaned back my hands on either side of me. Without hesitation, Addie took my cock into her mouth. Fuck me! The sheer heat nearly melted me. She moved leisurely as she took my whole cock into her mouth. I felt the back of her throat as she bobbed her head. Reaching out with my one hand, I placed it on her head, slowly guiding her. She moaned at my touch. I knew she sought out my control. I put more force on my hand, making her take me in as deeply as she could. Addie nearly gagged. I pulled her by her hair, my cock slipping out of her sweet mouth, a trail of saliva was the only thing left connecting my cock and her mouth.

“Get up,” I barked, letting go of her hair. She rose on shaky legs. I pulled her to me, her legs now straddling my own. “Sit on my dick,” I grunted. Addie's hips lifted. Taking my cock in her hand, she glided her pussy onto it. “Fuck me.” My head fell back as she began to ride me; her tight pussy tightening around me, squeezing me like a vise. “Addie, fuck, keep riding,” I gritted through my teeth.

Addie rode me in a maddening way. Her luscious sounds making me lose complete control. I gripped her hips and pulled her down harder onto my cock. I moved her hips faster. I needed to be inside her as far as I could go.

“Daimon,” she mewled.

“Addie.” My voice was tortured. We both came hard, our bodies violently shaking in each other’s embrace.



I watched as Addie slept next to me, huddled in her nook, as she called it. Her head lay perfectly in my arms and against my chest. I smiled, happy she was in London with me. A light flashing on my phone, drew my attention away from her sleeping form. I had received a text, fucking Richard. He was downstairs at the bar waiting for me.

I slowly slid Addie off me and moved out of bed. I’d be back when I was done with the old fart.

I stepped into the bar of the hotel. I never much liked its design, but it was what it was, with its high vaulted ceilings and oriental-themed bar display. Richard was at the bar waiting for me, his back hunched over his drink. I sat done next to him, the old fart not seeming to notice me.

“What is it that you want, Richard?” I bit out, annoyed.

“I’m here to warn you, Daimon,” Richard said as he nursed his drink.

“About?”

“Hugh Harris, the boy has gone mad, especially now that there’s a chance he’ll lose in court.

Listen, son, just make sure you stay away from him,” the old fart warned.

“Since when do you give a shit about me?” I asked as I waved over the bartender and ordered a Glenmorangie, neat.