Page 92 of Mine
‘Dom, please,’ I pat his arm, trying to reason with him. ‘This is too much.’
‘It’s not for your benefit.’ His eyes glint. ‘It’s for mine.’
‘Certainly, sir,’ she nods and touches his forearm. ‘The dressing room is ready for your wife upstairs with the champagne you requested.’
Sir. I bristle. I’m the only woman who gets to call him sir or touch him.
He chuckles beside me and murmurs into my ear. ‘You’re so fucking cute when you’re jealous.’
I’ll give him jealous. ‘You’re coming up with me.’ I eye him levelly as he registers what I’m saying. I want him to watch me. A low growl rumbles at the back of his throat.
I turn to the assistant then. ‘I’ll take the lingerie from the window too.’
Her eyes narrow as they assess my body, probably searching for the right size. ‘I’ll bring it right up.’
Dominic’s hand splays over my spine as he steers me to the lift. The changing room is on the top floor. An ivory leather couch punctuates the side of the room. There’s a small table with a bottle of chilled champagne and two glasses, and a changing screen which I will not be needing.
Floor to ceiling windows overlook the city below, but the only view I’m interested in is my husband as he settles into the leather and reaches for the bottle of bubbly.
‘Strip,’ he demands.
I glance at the door. ‘The assistant will be up any minute. She’ll see me.’
‘I know.’ He tips his head to the side, lips curving upwards in a rakish smirk as he pops the cork. ‘And if she’s not quick, she’ll see me bending you over this couch, eating your pussy from behind.’
What a fucking visual.
He’s so fucking depraved, and apparently so am I because heat suffuses my skin as he pours the champagne.
He holds out a glass, and I step closer to accept it, taking a sip before placing it on the table.
‘Get naked,’ he growls.
I glance down at the white playsuit I picked out this morning. It’s light and cut low at the back. So low that it doesn’t permit a bra. I pull the strings tied above my shoulders, and it slithers to the floor.
He hisses as his pupils peruse my body. ‘Are you missing the voyeurs?’ He sits forward, running a finger up my inner thigh.
I swallow hard.
‘Would you like them to hold you down again, while I spread your legs apart and demonstrate exactly how quickly I can make you cum with my tongue?’
My pussy pulses as his fingers skim higher.
A hand raps on the door.
‘Come in,’ he says, but his eyes don’t leave mine. His finger remains poised between my thighs.
The door opens, and the expression on the assistant’s face is priceless. It flits from surprise to something very much like arousal in one split second.
‘That will be all, thank you,’ Dominic says, his attention remaining focused on my face.
‘We have a policy, Sir,’ she stammers.
‘We’ll buy the lot. We’ll be down when we’ve finished,’ he assures her, still refusing to look anywhere but at me.
‘Certainly, sir.’ She backs out of the door, leaving us alone.
Dominic takes a sip of his champagne and resumes teasing my inner thigh. ‘Answer the question, Aoife. Would you like the world to watch my tongue sliding over your wet, wondrous cunt again?’
