Page 17 of Wicked Takeover
Dante seemed to know how depraved she was. He clasped her wrist. After bringing her to the table, he pushed magazines, plates, and empty soda cans off it. The items clattered and banged against the floor. Before the din had died down, he pressed his mouth to her ear. “Bend over.”
His demand was husky, his breath sinfully hot and sweetly scented.
The wooden stick fell and hit the tile with a brief tapping sound. She sank to the table, grateful for its support.
Dante ran his large hands over her ass, cupped her cheeks, and poured his incredible heat into her.
Someone moaned. Could have been her.
He made sounds that were aroused and pissed. “What did I tell you about losing the suit?”
What she wore today was the only clothes she had. She’d sold everything else to meet her car, condo, and student loan payments. “I don’t have anything else to wear.”
“You should have thought of that before now. When I tell you to do something, you’ll obey.”
He yanked down her skirt.
Her mouth fell open, and her breath caught.
The polyester fabric rustled and pooled around her ankles.
Dante stroked her garter-belt tat that Van Gogh had done for free because she hadn’t fired him. Lauren got inked because she didn’t have enough money to wash her underwear anymore, which meant she no longer wore stockings or panties. Naked from the waist down, she was fully accessible to Dante. Deliciously vulnerable to whatever the hell he wanted to do with her.
She prayed he wanted to do it all.
Delight rippled from her chest to her belly and settled between her legs, warming her. A cool breeze from the air conditioner licked her soft folds, already slick with desire.
Dante stroked the furrow between her cheeks. “Tell me you’ve been bad.”
She shivered. “I have. God, I really have.”
He circled her anus.
Pleasure burst through her, snatching her breath and weakening her further. To have his cock in her tightest channel made her burn with expectation.
She prayed he’d mount her.
He didn’t.
Maybe he was waiting for her to confess how she’d misbehaved. At this point, she’d do whatever it took. “I didn’t mean to take the ice cream. I was hungry.”
“You’ll eat before this night’s over.” His deep voice rumbled. He licked her earlobe. “We both will.”
He wasn’t talking about food.
She knew where this was heading. He’d stretch his large body over hers, his head bent to her cleft. His thick cock and pendulous balls would dangle above her mouth. She’d worship his weighty sac with her tongue. His musky, masculine scent would fill her. He’d lick her cleft and tongue her clit.
The room spun.
He brought his palm down hard on her ass, disciplining her.
She cried out.
The first sting faded into breathtaking warmth.
He followed it with another smack and another.
Rough voices poured down the hall.
