Home > Venice Nights (His Submissive #4.5)(24)

Venice Nights (His Submissive #4.5)(24)
Author: Ava Claire

His face was unreadable as he folded the letter and strode to the bed, placing it on the nightstand. He did not look at me as he loosened his tie.

"Be patient?" he said softly, pulling the silk from his neck and dropping it onto the bed.

I swallowed hard, taking a hesitant step toward him. "Someone asked that of me once."

He turned his head to the right, blue eyes soft as they landed on me. "Sounds like a smart guy."

I grinned, reaching toward him and taking his hand. He did not pull away.

"He has his moments," I wisecracked.

"Funny thing, moments.” He brought a hand to my cheek, his fingertips stroking the line of my jaw. "I knew you were special the moment I saw you."

I closed my eyes, relishing his touch.

"And what about this moment?" I whispered, the gravity between us electric.

"This moment is different," he answered, stepping closer. The heat in his body fanned the desire in mine. "Now, I know that special wasn't even close. You're everything to me, Leila."

His fingers tangled in my hair; drawing me to my toes, bringing my lips to his. But he did not kiss me. His lips hovered mere inches from mine, achingly close, and painfully far away. His grip on my hair tightened, sending an echo of sensation along my scalp.

“Say it again.”

“S-Say what?” I was breathless, my eyes on the contours of his lips, needing to kiss him. Starving for his taste.

“That you were made to love me.”

His c**k stirred against me, adding an erotic edge to the word. Love and lust collided, crashed into me in a beautiful crescendo.

“I was made to love you.” Saying the words aloud turned my skin into gooseflesh. “I love you, Jacob.”

He claimed my mouth. His lips, his hands, breathed into me, clutching my body to his. I tasted his need, his love, as his tongue thrust into my mouth. I moaned, the sound radiating through me as I locked my hands around his neck, arching my back. This kiss was the culmination of every word I wrote. A promise that I swore to keep. His hands cupped the sides of my face as his tongue slowed the rhythm of our mouths. It flicked over my bottom lip playfully and he slowly pulled back.

Lust burned hot in his gaze as he looked down at me. “Why did you ask me to meet you down here?”

I grinned mischievously, turning back to the four poster bed. I swung on one of the posts, my curls whipping around me before I stopped, standing before him. I loved the way he drank up my body in the chemise he picked out for me, the material like dark chocolate against my skin. His eyes were like his tongue, savoring the taste of my body.

“Honestly?” I said finally. “I missed this room.”

His lips curled into a devastating smirk. “The girl who couldn’t touch herself in front of me is willingly offering her body to me in a room filled with chains, whips, and a Saint Andrews cross?”

“Mhm.” The warmth in my belly simmered lower. My core trembled, drenched with lust. “If it pleases you, I want to show you just how much I’ve changed.”

His eyebrows quirked with interest. “By all means—show me.”

I kept my eyes locked on him as I took a step backward, brushing against the edge of the mattress. I glanced to my right, gripping one of the chains. I wrapped it around my wrist and slid onto the bed. I spread my thighs, the cool air stroking my exposed flesh as his eyes drank me in.

I drew a steadying breath, holding onto my cl**ax, fluttering dangerously close.

Not yet...not without his permission.

Biting my lip, I plunged a finger inside. The sound of my flesh and juices filled my ears. Jacob’s face was awash with pleasure as he watched me pump my fingers in and out of my body.

I was alight with sensation; the audience of his gaze forcing my fingers deeper, spreading my legs wider so I could take him with me. I wanted to feel him inside every part of me. Leave no secret unshared, no part of me untouched by him.

When I strained, adding a third finger, he came close, hand at his belt. I stopped, worried I had been too bold and broke some unspoken rule, but the look on his face was not one of disapproval.

“Don’t stop,” he said huskily.

I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip, thrusting wildly. My hand that was bound by the chain sparked with slices of discomfort. It added to the intensity of the pleasure.

He unbuckled his belt, the controlled movements of his hands contradicting the wild gleam in his eyes. His fingers said that he was composed and in no hurry; that he could watch me touch myself for hours and restrain himself. His eyes told a different story. They said he could not wait one more second to be inside me.

I saw him in all his glory. His c**k was swollen; rock hard, the personification of the feral look in his eyes.

He blazed toward me, gripping my ankle and yanking me until both feet landed on the floor. The look in his eyes had spread across his face, lust changing the perfect marble structure into something fluid and sensual.

He unhooked the chain from my arm, but he was not freeing me. His c**k pierced my lower abdomen as he bound me properly, taking the chains from the post behind me, and wrapping them around my wrists. He stretched my arms above my head; my body laid out for him.

He ran his hand down my thighs, yanking them open. He gazed at my core with such desire that I felt my bliss coming. I clenched my leg muscles tight, trying to maintain control.

“Don’t hold back.” His voice was a whip; a beautiful lash across my body. “Understood?”

“Yes sir,” I said hoarsely.

He came forward, steering himself between my thighs. The head of his c**k was poised at my entrance; his eyes shut like he was savoring the feel of my juices on him.

He rolled his h*ps and filled me in a single, powerful thrust. I wanted to hold on to how he felt inside me. The feel of everything finally making sense. The desire. The safety. The passion. But his moans pulled me into the arms of my first cl**ax. His thrusts grew savage and wild and he growled, “Mine” into my ear.

I hurtled toward my second.

Panting and nowhere close to done, I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him deeper inside me. His body tensed. He was close to his own release.

“Come for me,” I whispered, looking up at him like he was my salvation.

He threw his head back with a roar and my body clutched him, not letting go as we came together. Our bodies, our souls, connected.

He pulled from me, unroping the chains from around my wrists. His eyes narrowed in concern as he stroked the indents left on my skin. In the heat of the moment, I had pulled at the restraints, causing the metal to cut into my wrists.

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