I spread her open with my fingers and my tongue dipped into her. Her juices were like honey, matching the melody of moans that flowed from her lips. They changed pitch when I lingered on her clit, tongue swirling furiously around the swollen nub.
Every sound she made echoed through my body. The blood in my veins was replaced by white hot desire, fueling me with one sole purpose: giving her pleasure. I should have rose up and put the solid, rock hard bulge that impaled the mattress where it belonged; where my mouth was currently exploring. I longed to replace the tongue that pumped in and out as she shuddered, overloaded with pleasure. It was my routine, bringing my woman to the edge, then slamming my c**k inside her. Then when she was writhing and wild, I allowed my sub to come.
But not Melissa. I wanted her to come. I wanted to taste her release.
My tongue left no part of her quivering warmth untouched, my fingers pumping in and out at a fevered rhythm. My c**k raged, wanting, needing to be inside her. Control slipped away as Melissa swirled her hips. It was a brazen, decidedly un-submissive move, yet I growled with approval, replacing my fingers with my tongue.
I devoured her essence, lost in her erotic musks. And her moans...fuck, what was this woman doing to me? The lines that structured my sexual life blurred. This was the first time that my need to come was second to my lovers. I wanted her cream in my mouth, her ultimate satisfaction screeching from her lungs.
Her fingers gripped the sides of my head and I knew she was close. She shook wildly and my name shot from her lips as her body went wild. I’d heard orchestras from the West Coast to Australia, playing the most beautiful music ever created, but none of it was as sweet as Melissa’s moans as she came.
I was drunk off her. Lost in her.
And it was f**king terrifying.
I pulled back, rising to my feet. I avoided the lusty look on her face. Desire was etched on her features, confirming a truth I couldn’t fight. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“Wow.” Her voice still gravelly with sleep. Or likely raw from the extensive moaning.
“If that’s what waking up with Logan Mason is like, all I can say is, where have you been all my life?”
I knew it was meant to be a joke, but there was nothing amusing about the way I faded into her. I was a Dom, damn it. I held the reins, not my submissive. And whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was my submissive.
I wiped her juices from my lips, fighting the urge to lick my fingers. “Feel free to help yourself to anything. Mi casa es su casa.”
“And what if I want you?” she purred.
Oh hell, she was biting her lip, her big blue eyes hot with desire.
I’d already let her in, closer than anyone had been in a long time. The walls I built around myself weren’t there for decoration. They weren’t mere checkboxes for some stock caricature of a brooding billionaire. I kept my lovers at a distance for good reason.
So even though I wanted nothing more than to f**k her brains out, to forget about everything except Melissa Foster, I posed a proposition that I knew she’d decline.
“Are you ready to submit?”
Her face fell, her eyes dimming with reluctance.
“That’s what I thought,” I said icily.
“Logan—”
“I’ve got a few calls to make.” I interrupted dismissively. “I’ll use the guest bathroom downstairs. You can use mine. There should be some shower gel and shampoo in the bottom drawer. Something sweet and female approved. There’s also a couple of dresses in the closet that should fit you quite nicely.”
Why the hell would you go there, ass**le? Rub her nose in the fact that she’s not the first?
From the way Melissa’s eyebrows jumped and her lips thinned, she didn’t appreciate being reminded that other women had been in my bed. In my shower.
I should have told her that she wasn’t like the rest. That she was special. Instead, I left the room without another word.
2
****
With Melissa’s taste on my lips and her hooded eyes tattooed on my mind, focusing on work was virtually impossible. When my cell lit up with the number of the last person in the universe that I wanted to speak to, I decided to bite the bullet. I owed Melissa an apology, an explanation for why I’d given her the brush off. Since I wasn’t the kind of man that gave apologies or explained myself to anyone, the walk up the stairs seemed to stretch on for an eternity.
I'd been armed with a joke, but the look on her face told me she was more apt to rip my head off than chuckle. Her crystal blue eyes were as frigid as ice as she glared me into submission. She didn't even need words. That look said, ‘speak now, or get the hell out of my face’.
I was at the head of a multi-billion dollar company. At any given moment, I had the fate of thousands of employees in the palm of my hand. But a genuine spark of fear tightened my chest.
The effect Melissa had confounded me. Never before had I cared if the submissive in my bed felt slighted when the lust was satisfied. I paid no mind to her feelings when I abruptly reminded her that our arrangement was only a sexual one.
Melissa's eyes flayed me alive. She wouldn't let me put the wall back up and dismiss her like the others. The fire in her spoke to the flames inside of me.
I swallowed the knot in my throat. I knew I'd come back upstairs for a reason, but she rendered me speechless.
She stood up, perching a hand on her hip. My eyes flickered over the fact that she disobeyed me, passing on the clothes I'd offered her. She redressed herself in her leggings and t-shirt from the night before.
If I couldn't get her to obey a simple command, I was in for a grueling training session once she surrendered to her submissive nature.
“Where's the dress?” I asked. My voice was low. The Dom in me turned the three words into something dangerous.
Her eyes widened, then narrowed to insolent slits. “You mean the skanky little sundress to go with the Logan Mason approved toiletries?” She snorted. “Thanks, but I can dress and bathe myself just fine.”
Oh, she was a stubborn one. The fight in her made my c**k harden to steel. It wanted her smart little mouth wrapped around its thick shaft. Desire rumbled through me, taking over, and I struggled to reclaim control. Last night I broke the rule. The next time I had her, she would be mine.
My submissive.
I saw the challenge in her, a challenge I was dying to accept, but I kept my distance.
My lips curled into a smile. “Are you hungry?”
She frowned, her beautiful features registering surprise. I longed to see the thoughts and images flashing through her mind. Was she expecting me to demand that she turn that hot little ass toward me so I could spank her for forgetting her place? Did the thought make her wet?