“You come every day?” I whisper.
“Yes.” He sits back. “Don’t you?”
I shake my head.
“Well.” He takes my hand and puts it over his crotch; he’s rock-hard underneath his jeans. “We’ll have to do something about that.” He flexes his dick beneath my hand. “Won’t we?”
I stare at him as my brain begins to melt down.
There is just no mincing words, he’s full-on sexual. I know Elliot, I know he’s an aggressive man, and when he sees something that he wants, he gets it.
I don’t know why I’m surprised that he’s like this . . . but on some level, I am.
“You’re going to make me come . . . every day?” I whisper.
He chuckles and grabs a handful of my hair and drags me to him. “Baby, I’m going to make you come until you pass out.”
Fucking, fuck, fuck.
No need to even get me naked, I’m about to pass out now.
I smile as my tequila bravery begins to kick in. “We’ll see.”
“We will.” He pats his lap. “Over here.”
“What?”
“Spread those pretty little thighs and sit on me.”
“Here?” I squeak.
His grip on my hair tightens and he kisses me, long, deep, and slow, and I begin to lose control.
“Kate,” he demands. “When I ask you to do something, you do it. No questions asked.”
My heart begins to hammer in my chest.
“Now,” he repeats.
I blink in surprise. What have I got to lose, I’m going straight to hell already for sneaking around with a bad man. I stand up and he lifts one of my legs and puts it over him, and then he pulls my dress up so I can spread my legs as he pulls me down so I’m sitting on his lap.
We come face to face, our bodies snug up against each other. “That’s better.” He kisses my chest and nips my breast with his teeth.
We are in a restaurant.
This is like nothing I’ve ever done before-so unexpected. Wrong, but holy hell, so hot.
He stares up at me. “Make yourself come, angel.”
“What?” I whisper.
“Rub yourself over my cock, I want you to come before dinner.”
“Elliot,” I breathe, “are you crazy?”
He smiles up at me as his lips take mine. “My pleasure comes from watching your pleasure.”
He grabs my hips and circles them as he kisses me, my clitoris strategically placed over his erection. Teasing, taunting me to want more.
And I do.
He’s so hard beneath me, and his dick is rubbing in all the right places. “Elliot,” I breathe into his mouth.
“That’s it, baby, can you feel me. Feel what I’ve got for you?” He kisses me deeply. “I’m so full.” He murmurs into my mouth, “I need to come, it’s yours. Take it.”
Oh . . . fuck.
The sound of his familiar deep voice saying such dirty things fries my brain and I shudder as I begin to lose control.
“You want to come, too?” He circles me deeper. “I can feel how bad you need it.” His lips go to my ear. “Are you swollen and wet for me?”
I close my eyes as my body begins to rock of its own accord; it has an agenda now and I couldn’t stop it if I tried.
“Maybe I should spread you out on this table and lick you out . . . right here.” He bites my ear. “You don’t know how badly I need to taste you. It’s all I can think about.” He bites my neck hard and I jump, teetering on the edge of pain.
What the ever-loving fuck-Elliot Miles is the king of dirty talking . . . and we haven’t even made it home yet.
I shudder again and his grip on my behind tightens to near painful.
His eyes are dark, his big, beautiful lips are hungry. “Give me some cream, baby, you fuck that cock of mine.”
I convulse as I tip over the edge, the orgasm so strong that I whimper into his mouth; he smiles triumphantly as he kisses me as I come back to earth.
He leans back and watches me; he tenderly tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear.
“Now . . . we can eat.”