The Two Week Arrangement (Penthouse Affair, #1)

“Whoa, there . . .”

As soon as she’s settled, she releases a pleased sigh, her cheeks rosy with laughter. I kneel on the carpet before her, our hands intertwined in her lap.

“You’re so graceful,” I say, lifting an eyebrow.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, shut up. I already know I’m not anything like your fancy escorts.”

“No, you’re not.”

Her face galls, but then I lift her hand to my lips, and press a soft kiss there that’s reminiscent of our first date. She sucks in a quiet breath, her chest rising with anticipation.

Looking at her now with her long dark hair mussed, her little black dress pushing and pulling at her body in all the right ways . . . I want her. Before I can think too hard about it, I lean into her and inhale against her neck. She shivers.

I could tease this woman forever and never get bored.

Presley isn’t in the mood to be teased, however. She yanks at my tie, her lips making contact with my throat as she kisses a little line across my Adam’s apple.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

I release a sharp exhale and lift her chin, pressing my lips to hers. Presley’s hooded eyes sink closed.

My kisses start soft, just chaste presses of my lips to hers. But ever eager to please, Presley parts her lips, and then I’m tasting her. Wine mixes with the sweet flavor of Presley as our tongues touch. She makes a soft, hungry noise in the back of her throat as I thread my hands through her silky hair, tilting her head back.

Pressing hot, hungry kisses against her neck, I’m eager to hear more of the sounds she made in the car. I promised I’d take my time with her, but she’s testing my patience like no other woman has.

My lips never leave her skin as I lay her back onto the bed, and we roll into the center together. Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt. Her body is so warm, so soft. I want to pin her down, press myself against her, claim her . . .

When she murmurs my name, I drag my teeth lightly across her collarbone, and her hips jolt. My hand slides down her side to cup her round ass, pulling her firmly against me. The way she rubs against me, I can tell that she feels my hard length against her thigh.

“Tell me,” I whisper as I kiss down her chest.

I can tell she’s aching for me to touch her breasts. I want to, but not as badly as I want her to want it. Massaging her perfect ass with one hand, I trail the other in a tantalizing line down her breastbone. Lower and lower, I drag my fingertips lightly over the soft material of her dress.

“T-tell you what?” She can hardly speak, she’s so turned on.

“What sort of things have you done before?” I slide my fingers up the back of her dress, over the skin of one smooth thigh, and reach the dangerously soft skin of her hips and waist. I play with the string of her thong, lifting it from her hip bone and pulling it down, ever so slowly. From my vantage point, I can see her chest rising and falling.

“I don’t know . . . Things,” she says, then gasps with a swallow.

On my knees now, situated between her legs, I lightly graze my fingers down the center of her belly toward the juncture between her thighs. She sucks in another breath, her hips wiggling on the bed.

Patience, Presley.

“What sort of things?” Giving a tug to the skimpy fabric, I pull her thong down to her ankles. I kiss her knees as I untangle it from her heels, sliding the silken material into my pocket. “Things like this?”

I lick the line of her inner thigh, punctuating the trail with a hard suck. She moans and then laughs a little, breathlessly. I push her dress up on her hips, revealing her perfect pink pussy. Fucking hell, is there anything more beautiful?

“Or things like this?” I bring my lips to the needy spot between her thighs, but I don’t touch her yet, using my hot breath to drive her crazy.

“Mmm,” she whimpers, and my cock presses painfully against my zipper.

Fuck patience.

I part her with my tongue, tasting her with a confident motion. She groans, pushing herself against my mouth. Between soft kisses to her sweet center, I find myself moaning. The vibrations send her reeling, her fingers finding purchase in my hair.

Now that I have her taste on my tongue, I can’t stop. I press my tongue into her warmth and almost come in my fucking pants. She’s so sweet. So tight and tempting. Her fingers rake against my scalp, and she makes needy noises of pleasure.

I hook my thumbs around her hip bones to give myself more leverage against her eager motions. She’s panting with short, high-pitched breaths that tell me she’s close to coming. Focusing on her clit, I suck away at her last efforts of composure.

“Dom!” she shouts.

Presley.

I slide one hand up her body to find her breast, pulling a nipple between forefinger and thumb. With the most maddening, soft whimpering sounds I’ve ever heard, Presley grinds herself right against my face, and I’m lost.