She hiked her shoulders. “Can’t have you not at your physical peak.”
He groaned again, wished she would stop reminding him where this was going, because he really wanted to last long enough to at least make it to the silver medal. The way she kept teasing him, making his mind leap forwards to imagine being inside her, was going to have him coming in at bronze if she kept it up.
Daimon focused on small things, starting with unzipping her black corset the rest of the way. When the two sides of the zipper parted, his heart hitched and his breath trembled, all of his focus shifting to his hands as he eased the front open.
“Sweet gods,” he muttered, voice scraping low as he stared down at her breasts, transfixed by her dusky nipples as they stiffened, begging for his lips.
Cass looked down at her breasts and then up at his face. “What are you waiting for?”
He wasn’t sure.
He swooped on them, telling himself that he had kissed her without hurting her, had touched her without hurting her. He could do this and so much more without hurting her too.
His lips closed around her left nipple and he groaned as she moaned and arched her back up, pressing her breast to his face. Her fingers tangled in his hair, twisting it hard as she clutched him to her.
“Daimon,” she whispered, his name a breathless delicious plea that had his cock kicking against his jeans.
He sucked and licked her nipple, lavishing it with the attention it deserved, and lowered his hand to his jeans, palmed his length and shifted it into a less painful position.
Cass only made it harder when she dropped one hand to her other breast and played with her nipple, rolling and tweaking the bud.
Good gods, he felt sure he had never been with a woman who actively pleasured herself right in front of him. The sight of her teasing her own flesh, stoking her own arousal, had him as hard as steel.
He wanted to see what she would do if she had access to other parts of herself.
His hand drifted to her leathers, fumbled with the button and then the zip. They were too damp to push down with one hand so he reluctantly released her and eased back onto his knees.
He gripped both sides of her trousers and shimmied them down, Cass tormenting him the entire time he wrestled with them. She circled her nipples with her fingers, her gaze hooded and fixed on him.
“Really making this hard,” he gritted as a thousand hot shivers raced through him, cranking his need up, pushing him to the edge before he had even gotten her naked.
She smiled saucily, lifted her left foot and ran it down his crotch. “Already seems pretty hard to me.”
Daimon caught her foot to stop her, glanced at it and stilled. When he had removed her boots, her toes had been black, but now they were a delicate pink again. He dropped his head and kissed each toe.
“Didn’t know you had a fetish.” Cass’s sultry voice teased his senses, keeping his need at a boil.
He lowered her foot and finished removing her leathers, and paused as he tossed them over his shoulder, drinking in the sight of her stretched out on his bed wearing nothing but a flimsy pair of black lace shorts.
Daimon reached for them.
Cass planted her feet against his chest. “Ah-ah… I think it’s your turn to lose some clothing.”
He was quick to stand and obey that order, tugged his top off and dropped it by his feet, swiftly following it with his jeans. He kicked them off and stood before her, battling another wave of nerves.
Her eyes drifted over him, her pupils dilating as her gaze traversed his chest and then his stomach, and finally settled on his trunks.
“And the rest.” She waggled her right foot at his underwear, her eyes remaining locked on it.
He swallowed, ran his fingers along the waistband and then shoved them down and stepped out of them.
Cass moaned as he straightened, her teeth teasing her lower lip as she frowned at him. “Exquisite.”
He definitely hadn’t been called that before.
She crooked a finger at him before slipping it between her lips to suck it. He groaned as she popped it free of her lips and trailed it between her breasts, over the flat plane of her stomach to her navel and then lower. She traced the waist of her panties, her eyes dark and beckoning him.
Gods, there was a thousand things he wanted to do with her.
But he knew where he wanted to start.
He caught her ankles and spread her legs, leaned over her and pressed his mouth to her flesh through the lace of her panties. She gasped and bucked up, her hand flying to his head, fingers twining in his hair as her breaths came faster.
Daimon groaned and laved her, tasting her sweetness, aching with need that rode him hard, had him wanting to rush.
He tore another gasp from her as he ripped her flimsy underwear away, as his mouth met bare flesh and he stroked his tongue hard over her pert bead.
“Gods,” she muttered and clutched him, hips rocking in a sensual way.
And he discovered he loved that about her, loved the fact she participated in everything, didn’t just lay there and let him do the work. She rode his tongue, moaning things in Russian that cranked the heat in his veins up another ten degrees.
Daimon stroked his fingers over her soft slick flesh as he suckled her bead, groaned against her as he felt how wet she was, how ready for him. His cock kicked against the blue covers and he lowered his hips and rubbed against them, needing some relief.
Cass cried out when he eased two fingers into her, her heat gripping them tightly as she clenched, ripping another low moan from him. He pumped her as he rubbed his length against the mattress, his breaths coming faster
