The Jezebel - Dylan Allen Page 0,47

He kicks the door closed and loses his footing, and we both teeter momentarily. He recovers his footing and wraps one strong arm around my waist and cradles the back of my head with the other.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod. But I could be falling through space and wouldn’t care.

I’m riveted by eyes that call to mind the brown sugar, butter, and cream pralines I gorge myself on at Christmas—golden brown and endlessly tempting.

I’m enthralled by the heat of his palm on my bare back, the slide of his strong fingers as they curl around my ribcage and the tips of them brushing the sensitive underside of my breast.

“I’m so clumsy,” I say with a breathy giggle and coquettish voice that I know for certain has never passed my lips before.

“No, you’re so unbelievably beautiful.” His eyes darken accentuating the flecks of gold around his pupils. He pulls me up to standing straight, and cups one of my bare ass cheeks, squeezes and pulls so that the cool air of the hotel room touches the hottest part of my body.

He growls, his eyes narrowing to slits when I whimper at the swirl of his thumb over my clit.

A thousand pinpricks of pleasure ignite when his exquisitely clever fingers stroke and probe my pussy for the first time. I rock against his hand, seeking, and desperate.

His touch goes from reverent to ravenous – prying, prodding, plunging.

“Did you ask me here to fuck you?” His voice is urgent, rough as gravel, and sends a ravishing shiver through me.

I shake my head and pant through a grin when he grits his teeth in frustration. “I invited you here so that I could fuck you.”

His chuckle is wicked with satisfaction and it makes my toes curl. “What are you waiting for, then?”

“I want to do something,” I whisper as my eyes follow the trail of my hand over the contour of his broad shoulders, fascinated by the velvet smooth skin and its perfect concert with the muscle, sinew and bone it's wrapped around. I explore his trim, muscle girded waist and lean hips with wonder and avarice.

I’ve never touched a body so finely formed. For the first time in my adult life, I understand why women make fools of themselves over men. I say a quick prayer of thanks that my tryst is going to be with someone who could have been ripped from the pages of my fantasies and who I never have to see again. This must be that good karma I’ve been hearing about my whole life. Like the grateful sinner that I am, I drop to my knees on the soft cream-colored carpet.

My unpracticed fingers fumble with the buttons of his jeans but get them unfastened just as I see his hands twitch impatiently at his sides. The zipper parts to reveal more smooth skin stretched taught over exquisite muscle and a network of veins along with a dusting of golden hair that’s like a roadmap leading me to pleasure.

I’m treated to the mouthwatering sight of the crown of his penis pushing past the elastic waistband of his briefs. The rest of his thick, rigid length strains against the black fabric.

“May I put my mouth on you?” I ask and gaze up at him through my lashes. He’s panting and when he speaks his teeth are clenched.

“Anything…you can have anything you want.”

The knowledge that I made a man like this breathless with need, takes my breath away. I lean forward and circle my tongue over the hot, smooth skin …Dear Lord, he tastes so good

He throws his head back, exposing the strong column of his throat and the defined line of his jaw. His plump lower lip is caught between his perfectly straight, white teeth. Every single inch of him is wildly attractive.

It’s only when my hand comes into contact with the unbelievably soft skin of his rock-hard erection, that I manage to pull my eyes away from his achingly handsome face.

I lean in and pull the tip between my lips and suck softly. He releases a shuddering breath and mutters something I can’t make out. His hand curves around my head, his finger tangling in my hair, coaxing me forward.

I take my first taste of him, with just the tip of my tongue pressed into the small slit at the top of his dark head.

I slide my lips down and pull him in, as far as I can relaxing my throat when my gag reflex threatens. I can’t take

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