Page 65 of The Devil of Downtown

He hikes the fabric higher, dragging his hand slowly up before his thumb brushes the ache waiting between my thighs, so light it borders on cruel. Not enough to satisfy. Just enough to increase the need.

I close my eyes and let my head rock back, legs falling wider apart.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his voice a soft lull.

He eases the straps of my dress from my shoulders, inching the fabric down until cool air grazes my skin. Moonlight spills across the curve of my bare breasts, a pale shimmer against the dark.

“So beautiful,” he rasps against my skin as he suckles my breast—his tongue tasting, flicking over each nipple before he draws one between his lips.

My body arches toward him, grinding against his thumb as I chase more. “That’s it, baby, give it to me,” he coaxes, sucking harder, the pull of his mouth and the thrust of his hand sending my thoughts scattering.

“Oh, fuck, Dane,” I choke out as he slips his middle finger deep inside me, curling it over the spot that draws a guttural moan. He silences me with his mouth, forcing my lips apart, his tongue sliding over mine.

“Look at you,” he breathes against my lips. “Being such a good girl for me.”

His hands circle my waist, his mouth tracing light kisses down the deep line of my neckline and over the soft curve of my belly.

“I think you’re ready for my tongue,” he continues. “But first I need to be sure you don’t run again.”

He steps back to unbuckle his belt. The leather slips free in one smooth motion, the clink of metal sending a sharp pulse through me.

He gathers my wrists behind my back, looping the belt around them until it’s snug. The restraint bites sharp enough to make me gasp. I should resist—wantto—but the pulse between my thighs beats louder than reason.

My fingers curl into my palms when his lips trail lower, skimming the inside of my thigh in maddening, light trails, his stubble scraping deliciously against the sensitive skin.

Slowly, he drapes my leg over his broad shoulder, taking his time, letting the tension build. His gaze sweeps over me, lingering on my heaving breasts, nipples still wet and tight from his mouth. Firm fingers dig into my thighs, spreading me open, and I forget how to damn well breathe.

He doesn’t look away as he leans in. “Don’t ever run from me again, Ivy,” he whispers, blowing a gentle breath along my slit that makes my eyes roll.

The first touch of his tongue is a flat, slow, deliberate lick from my opening all the way up to my clit. It’s not gentle. It’s a claiming. My entire body arches off the table as his mouth closes around the swollen bud and he sucks.Hard.

After that, everything is a blur. A storm of sensations. Each slow drag of his tongue. That deliberate swirl that has me trembling. Hard. Deep strokes until I’m riding his face, begging every time he slows.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his tongue teasing with gentle flicks. “You taste so sweet.”

God, he’s too good at this. So good I can’t hold on to a single thought, can’t remember where I end and he begins—only that I need more.

I’m right there on the edge—until his voice jolts me back. “Eyes on me, Ivy.”

My gaze snaps to his, glinting with pure possession, wild green in the pale moonlight.

“Now come for me,” he hisses, lips glistening as he drags his tongue slowly, thoroughly, before thrusting itdeep.

Oh. My. Fucking—

My body seizes around his mouth as I come hard enough to make the room spin.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his voice muffled against my skin. “Keep fucking my tongue.” He doesn’t let up. Rough palms slide under me, yanking me up, pressing me right into his mouth, ripping another orgasm from me, even more intense than the last.

I sag back against the table, breath coming slow and unsteady, floating and wrecked—and maybe a little pissed I’ve waited this long in life to experiencethat.

He kisses his way back up my body, then gathers me into his arms. With a softer touch, he unloops the belt and brings my wrists to his lips, one, then the other, planting tender kisses.

“You look beautiful in this dress,” he murmurs, brushing his lips on mine. “But even more beautiful wearing my belt.”

He steals one last dizzying kiss, and I melt into it. I hook my legs around his hips, rolling against him in a slow, deliberate grind, feeling his swollen cock pulse against my thigh.

“We’re leaving now,” he groans, his teeth catching my lower lip. “You’re coming home with me.”