Their Virgin Mistress (Masters of Ménage #7)(37)

He needed to feel, too. It had been so long since he'd had a woman soft and giving against him, and after no more than a few kisses with Tori, he had to wonder if he'd ever experienced anything truly real before. Sliding her lush curves against him and delving into her sweet mouth was more visceral than anything he'd ever imagined.

At the realization, Oliver hesitated. He had the feeling that if he went through with this, if he lost himself in her now, he might never be found again.

She touched his cheek, fingertips gossamer soft. "Please … "

He couldn't refuse her.

Oliver wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to his body. She was completely naked, utterly vulnerable to him. He kissed her, tongue sweeping deep inside her mouth while he explored the smooth skin of her back with eager palms. He brushed his fingers down the graceful length of her spine, nearly down to that glorious round arse he'd dreamed about.

His cock nudged her belly, desperate to be free and to feel her. He was dying for her touch.

He sank his hand into her hair and gently pulled her head back. In the moonlight, her lips looked sweetly bruised by his rough kisses. For a night, he could pretend she was his to do with as he pleased. He intended to indulge to the fullest. "Tori, undress me."

With a jerky nod, she raised trembling hands to his tuxedo coat and eased it off his shoulders. The second she touched him, Oliver's entire body jolted with electric desire. Patience. He forced himself to stand still as she hung the jacket on a nearby rack, then while her pink-tipped fingers worked his tie and unfastened each button down his shirt. She blinked shyly at him as she pushed the shirt off his torso.

His patience fled. He toed out of his loafers and reached for his belt. The minute his trousers were off he was going to start teaching her exactly how he liked to be pleasured.

With that thought, Oliver realized this was precisely what he needed. Why should he spend his time alone? Life was about negotiating the best terms of payment, and he could afford Tori Glen. He could train her to cater to his physical needs. In return, he could set her up in a much better flat. Her only job would be to satisfy him sexually. 

He didn't have to love her. He could put her in a nice, sumptuously appointed box and they would both have what they wanted.

With unsteady fingers, she pushed aside his hands and unfastened his belt, and an unwanted compassion flitted through him. She'd had a hell of a night. If she needed to slow down and take a breath, he would make sure she did. "Do you need more time, darling? I won't force you to do anything before you're ready, but I will ask for what I want. And I want your mouth on me."

She tilted her chin up, her eyes widening. "You want a blow job."

He chuckled a bit because she whispered the words like a teenager afraid her mother would overhear. "Yes. I want that sweet mouth on my cock. I want your tongue to lick every inch of me."

Tori straightened her shoulders. "Maybe I want that, too. Except for you to put your mouth on my … down there." She frowned, looking like a curious little kitten. "On my...I believe you Brits call it a fanny, though that's not what it means in America, so I wish you would all stop laughing at me when I talk about a fanny pack."

He grinned, drawing her back to him, and he couldn't remember a woman who pleased him more. "I promise not to laugh at your fanny. Why don't we call it your pussy, darling? We'll make a deal. You learn how I want you to suck my cock, and I'll eat your sweet pussy."

She swallowed hard and nodded, her fingers back to untangling his belt. "I want to know how both of those feel."

Oliver had to hand it to her. Clever manipulation, intimating that he was the only man in the world she could possibly want and that sex with him would be so different. Of course it wasn't true since he'd caught her on the verge of fucking his younger brother, but he couldn't bring himself to call her on it. If he did, then he had to leave the fantasy, too, and there would be time enough for that in the morning. Now, he wanted to forget his earlier jealousy and pretend a bit. He liked the world she wove around him. As long as he remembered it wasn't real, it was safe to indulge.

Finally, she slipped his belt free, and he could feel his unruly cock nearly thumping against his trousers, desperate to get out. "Be careful with the zip."

It would be easier to do it himself, but he liked the idea of her preparing him before she got to her knees and served him.

With careful fingers, she lowered the zip and shoved his knickers aside. His cock bobbed between them, and the little sound she made soothed his ego.

Impatiently, he shoved everything off his hips and kicked it aside. "Touch me, Tori."

She stared at his cock and petted him softly, reverently. He couldn't take that.