the dark, wet heat at her center, already glistening with desire.
Dorian unfastened his pants and slid his hand down the front, finally unleashing his cock, hard and eager for her.
Across the darkened space, Charlotte let out a soft gasp and bit her lower lip, shifting on the leather seat as if it was suddenly difficult for her to sit still.
Her eyes glazed, and he flashed a smirk, wondering if she was recalling the last time she’d taken it in her mouth.
Dorian certainly was.
“Come to me, Charlotte,” he ordered.
Charlotte hesitated, a silent war waging in her eyes, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.
“Is there a problem, Ms. D’Amico?” Dorian teased. “Something you find… unsatisfactory?”
“Damn,” she whispered, the smile finally breaking through in earnest. “You’re a very bad influence, Mr. Redthorne. I’m supposed to be on the VDD.”
“VDD?”
“Vampire dick detox,” she said, as if it made perfect sense.
Dorian laughed. “I see. And how’s that working out for you, love?”
“It was working out just fine, until you…” She gestured at his cock, still fisted tightly in his hand.
“The VDD,” he mused. “Well, this is an unfortunate turn of events. But not entirely unworkable.” He stroked himself once, twice, long and slow, her eyes following the movements of his fist. “I suppose we’ll have to get creative.”
Charlotte sighed, nibbling again on that plump lower lip.
Dorian wanted to bite her.
But that would have to wait.
She reached for him, already moving from her seat, ready to follow his commands.
“Easy, love,” he teased. “You’re on a restricted diet, and I respect that.”
“Dorian, I—”
“Dorian?”
“Mr. Redthorne,” she said, adorably exasperated. “Please let me touch you.”
Ignoring her, he hit the intercom for Jameson.
“Yes sir?” came the reply.
“Jameson, I’d like you to take the long way home, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all, sir.”
He turned off the intercom, then said to Charlotte, “There’s a compartment beside you. Open it.”
She did as he asked, finding a small ice chest, freshly refilled. He heard the change in her heartbeat, the quick skip as the realization set in. He knew at once she was thinking of their rendezvous in the game room in Tribeca, just as he was.
Without being asked, she retrieved an ice cube from the chest and brought it to her lips.
“Suck on it,” he whispered, tightening his grip on his cock.
She wrapped her lips around the ice cube and slid it into her mouth, obeying his command. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she moaned softly, working the ice as if she were working him.
Bloody hell, I could die right here and call it a life well lived…
“Open your legs,” he demanded, and she did, her sweet blush spreading from her cheeks to her neck, cresting over the tops of her breasts. “Touch yourself for me, Charlotte. Show me what you do when you’re all alone in that bed at night, thinking of me. Remembering all the dark, wicked ways I’ve made you come.”
Charlotte moaned again, dragging the ice cube from her lips to the hollow of her throat and down to her breast, slowly running it over one nipple, then the other, rivulets of water dripping down her skin. A low growl vibrated in Dorian’s chest, and he stroked himself again, following the trail of melted water with his eyes, recalling the sweet, addictive taste of every soft curve, every dark hollow.
“Charlotte,” he breathed, his own heart rate matching hers, beat for rapid beat as she slid the ice cube down between her thighs.
She gasped at the shocking cold, but didn’t stop, her head falling backward against the headrest, her hips tilting upward as she swirled the ice over her clit, then dipped inside, fucking herself for his pleasure.
“Oh, fuck,” she breathed, a sound of pure ecstasy as the ice finally melted and she took over with her fingers, stroking herself faster, the blood singing through her veins, her heart pounding as she pushed herself closer. “I’m… God, Dorian. You’re… impossible…”
“Don’t stop, Charlotte,” he warned, his own voice strained. The moment threatened to overwhelm him, Charlotte melting at her own touch before his eyes, the limo purring hypnotically along the highway, her scent invading his senses, his balls tightening, desperate to unleash everything he’d been holding back for a fucking eternity as they’d spent their nights apart…
“Please, Mr. Redthorne,” she whispered, trembling and desperate. “I’m so close.”
“I know, love.”
“It’s you I want,” she breathed. “It’s you I always want.”
Dorian tightened his grip, forcing himself to resist the siren call of her begging. “Not yet, love.