“Can you do something for me, love?”
“Anything, I promise, I’ll—just—”
“If you like it,” he said softly, “scream.” And then he put his mouth on her.
At which point, Dani realized it was entirely possible, maybe even likely, that Zaf had sold his soul to some dark god in exchange for incredible oral sex skills. If so, Dani thoroughly supported—indeed, approved of—his decision.
The man didn’t just lick her; he practically fell inside her vagina face-first. Which was a lot sexier than it sounded. His tongue slid through her folds like warm, wet silk, his beard rasped against the tender curve where her thighs met her arse, and his finger worked her stiff little clit so firm and fast that if he stopped, she might kill him. She’d at least try. She’d smack him over the head with her statue of Oshun, probably, because the feel of him burying his face in her pussy was fucking intoxicating, and his tongue made her knees weak, and the arm he wrapped around her upper thighs was the only thing keeping her upright.
“Please,” she panted, words rushing out like a fall of shattered glass. “Zaf, please.” He rubbed his tongue over her cunt with deliberate, ruinous decadence. The twist of need inside her grew tighter and tighter, until the pressure was just too much. She did exactly as he’d asked: she screamed.
The sound was short and sharp and shaking, her orgasm hard and unescapable. It ripped through her on a wave of sheer ecstasy, then stuck around, sinking into her bones even as her muscles turned to liquid. Zaf’s tongue stroked her softly through each aftershock. And then, when her knees finally gave out, he caught her in his arms and stood.
Dani screwed her eyes shut as her stomach flipped. “For heaven’s sake,” she mumbled, each word shivering and breathless. “I am in too delicate a condition to be thrown around right now.”
“Delicate, hmm?” Zaf sounded amused and . . . smug. The bastard. “I better put you to bed,” he said mildly, at which point Dani discovered heretofore unmined reserves of energy.
“Yes.” She grinned, opening her eyes. “You’d better.”
“On it.”
With his eyes gleaming hungrily and his mouth swollen and slick, Zaf looked like exactly what he was: an unholy tool of sexual devastation, also known as Dani’s greatest fantasy. He shouldered his way into her room, dropped her onto the bed, and then stripped off the rest of his clothes with little fanfare.
“This is very efficient,” she said as his trousers disappeared.
“I have a one-track mind.”
“I approve.”
He laughed and took off his underwear. Now he was gloriously naked under the glow of her bedside lamp, prowling toward her like an advancing god. He had a broad, heavy body, with amber skin dusted by pitch-black hair, but Dani found 100 percent of her attention sucked up by his cock. Which was appropriate, since she’d like to suck his cock. It was thick and dark and curved slightly to the left, the head shining with pre-come, a fine vein pulsing along the underside that practically begged for her tongue.
“Gosh,” she blurted, blinking hard. “That’s . . . your . . . penis.”
“Yep.” He looked down at himself, frowning a little. “Er . . . this isn’t your first one, is it?”
“No,” Dani squeaked. She was simply experiencing a moment of mild alarm because . . . well. She didn’t think she’d ever wanted anyone quite this much.
Of course you have. You must have. These were just sex chemicals, dopamine and other traitorous substances making her feel oddly attached in the heat of the moment. God only knew what would happen when he put his dick in her. Maybe she’d lose her mind.
And maybe none of that mattered, because Zaf lay over her then, and the skin-to-skin contact felt like sinking into a warm bath after a long day, and Dani quite lost her train of thought.
He traced the line of her jaw and whispered, “You still with me, sweetheart?”
“Al—” She broke off just in time, her voice caught in her throat.
Always. That’s what she’d been about to say. Always. The word sat in front of her, too bright and awful to look at, like a ray of sunshine through the blinds at 6 A.M. What in God’s name was that? Had she fallen asleep in front of a Hallmark film recently and absorbed its bullshit into her subconscious? Dani swallowed hard, bit her lip, and remembered she was sex-drunk. Yes. Chemicals, et cetera. Zaf’s tongue was basically a drug. She’d been over this.
He watched her with a furrow between his thick eyebrows that she suddenly wanted to kiss. “Dan?”
Don’t panic. Everything is fine. But she needed to change the subject, both internally and externally. Which, in this case, meant licking her palm and reaching between their bodies to grasp his cock.
He choked out a moan and his hips jerked. He was so smooth, so hot, so hard. Addictive. She swept her thumb over the fat, swollen head and watched his eyes snap shut. “Danika,” he said, the word ragged. “Fuck. That’s good.”
That’s good. She liked that, coming from his mouth. Liked putting that agonized look on his face, liked the way his control dissolved. This was what she wanted from him. This was all she wanted.
“Tell me what else is good,” she murmured, and stroked him, slow and deliberate, drinking down the way his muscles tightened.
“Yeah,” he grunted when she twisted her wrist. “Yeah. Harder.”
She squeezed, he growled. Before she knew it, he was kissing her, hot and aggressive, his teeth tugging at her lower lip. She kept stroking him, and the faster she jerked his dick, the more he fell apart. Soon he was making hoarse, breathless sounds, catching her wrist with one strong hand, begging her, “No more. Don’t make me come before I get inside you.”
She pouted and ran her thumb lightly along that fine, raised vein.
“Ungh. Fucking hell,
