Entry-Level Mistress - By Sabrina Darby Page 0,17

that thin barrier had its own pleasure.

Desire sharpened within me and I twisted in his grasp, restless and wanting more. His hand was on my bare thigh, thumb snaking below the lace of my garter strap and I sighed at that touch. Then his attention shifted, his hand sliding back down, his head lifting. I rolled my head to meet his darkened gaze.

“Let’s get you out of this.”

I stumbled into the room, stopped, my back to him and let him unzip the long line of interlocked metal. I shivered when he brushed my hair away and kissed me on my newly exposed skin. He slipped my dress off my shoulders. It slid down to the floor. I stepped forward, out of the pool of fabric around my heels. My hair brushed my skin as it fell back in place. I didn’t feel like myself. I was every woman who had been at this moment, seductive and seduced, anticipatory yet tense. And wearing sexy lingerie I’d only worn once before, for a burlesque costume party. But as I turned, I knew that Daniel saw the set of matching black lace exactly the way I wanted him to.

I tilted my head, studied him, planned out how I would unbutton his shirt, unfasten his belt, his pants. He stepped forward with sudden intention. I backed up.

The air was charged and thick between us. He stepped forward again, and I stepped back. And then again. Until I stumbled against the bed at my heels. He was at my side in an instant, catching me. In his arms, I fell back, dizzy and laughing.

Then he was kissing me. Everywhere. How could he possibly be touching me everywhere all at once? My whole skin tingled with sensation, radiated with pleasure. His hands on my thighs again—I felt the snap of my garter straps unfastened.

I jolted out of my passivity, reaching for him, for his face, his mouth, pulling at his clothes. I tossed my careful plan to the side as I pulled his shirt from beneath the waistband of his pants.

The skin of his back was warm, smooth and taut over his muscles. Where my fingers led, my mouth wanted to follow. I wanted to taste everything about him.

He pulled away. For a moment I stared at him in confusion but then, as I watched him shed his clothes with lightning speed, the confusion changed to appreciation. He was even more beautiful naked than in his bespoke suits. He was hard and gorgeous and—

“You are just ridiculously hot, Daniel Hartmann.” The words were blurted out before I even realized I said them. But it didn’t matter because that tall, delicious nakedness was looming over me, sliding my thong out from under my garter belt, over the stockings, leaving it with a toss on the floor.

I watched him as he studied me and then I looked down at my own nearly naked body, the object of his desire. I felt beautiful in a way I’d never known before.

He reached past me to the far side of the bed. I heard a slight rustling, the distinct metallic crinkle of a condom package, and anxiety bloomed with me again. I was a stupid idiot and could only be grateful for his thoughtfulness. I was so caught up in the moment, so caught up with him, that for the first time ever—

“Emily,” he whispered, breaking me out of my thoughts. “I want to taste you.”

I wanted to cry but he was kissing me again, this time the curve of my breast above my demi-bra. The touch of his lips on my skin was light, gentle. Testing. Aroused by both sight and touch, I watched his tongue flick against my skin the instant before the sensation seared through me.

Then his gorgeous, chestnut-haired head moved further away, down my body, leaving a trail of fire behind. His shoulders parted my legs. His fingers touched me first, stroking. He looked up, his eyes dark and his face almost boyish and eager to please. And then, he touched me with his tongue.

He wasn’t the first guy to go down on me. Despite what my eighth grade human development teacher warned our all-girls class about, boys these days know they need to at least make an attempt, even if most of those attempts are sloppy, aborted efforts. But this was way past try; this was a skilled manipulation of my body and I reveled in it. With each lick, each caress, he found the places