Page 21 of Mine for 24 Hella-Hours
I get lost in his infinite darkness that captures his profound brilliance. Every time I look at my tattoo—I think about Luka and the way he made me feel. Then, my heart starts to pound faster.
Somehow he made me feelseen.
“Good.” The proximity he irradiates is contagious. “You had days to think what it is that you want from me, did you?” His calm presence yet attentive stare build the raging, fervent libido I encountered that night at the club.
“Can I use the restroom?” I need a moment to catch my breath because I’m slightly panicking.
“To your left,” he whispers gently in my ear as he takes the bottle from my hand and strides past me to the kitchen.
I make a beeline to the bathroom. What do I want out of this? Out of him.
I spent hours upon hours at home replaying every minute since the moment we met. Craving to see the mysterious man who chased me. If I’m being honest all I want is a night I won’t be able to forget. He promised twenty-four hours and it’s plenty of time to make it a memorable day.
I’m already starting to lose hope of finding my person. Dating is excruciating. The more I participate in it the farther awayhegets. An outstanding night of sex sounds like the cure to forget about my unfortunate trials.
It’s just twenty-four hours right?
What’s the big deal?
We will part ways once we’re satisfied with ourselves. No harm no foul.
Come on, Dylan. Be courageous. You know how to do it. A pep talk might do it to some, yet, I still feel the nerves condemning my system.
It’s not about what we’re doing. It’shim. What if I won’t live up tohisexpectations?
I wash my hands and check myself in the mirror. My lustful hazel eyes stare back at me. There’s no doubt. I came here to have the best sex of my life and one can only hope to be pleasured into a vortex of blissfulness.
Luka watches me closely as I make my way back to him. “Don’t look at me like that.”
I eye him back. “Like what?”
“Like you’re waiting for me to make the first move.” His dark eyes study my reaction, “You know what you want—so come and get it.”
The mask doesn’t work on him. My heart reads my calm expression backward.
He observes every movement as I pace toward him—it feels like he’s ripping my clothes off with one look—taking my hand in his, he squeezes gently. “Don’t fight yourself, let go.” His warm breath is fanning my face.
My fingers latch around his neck, pulling him toward my lips. His hands travel along my back, squeezing my waist lightly before he lifts me to wrap his hips.
“Kiss me,” is all it takes for him to divulge into me.
His mouth clashes with mine and blasting fireworks explode in my ears. His tongue penetrates erotically, diving deep and flicking against mine. Taking his time with each stroke. Slowly. Getting to know my taste. Exploring my mouth.
Electricity is coursing through my veins until my toes tingle with this elicit sensation.
His tongue invites mine to an electric dance of dominance which he wins.
His palms squeeze my ass hard, shoving me against his stomach, roaming over my waist and back to give another firm squeeze while our lips stay glued.
I moan to his mouth. Not once. Multiple times. High by the effect.
The repetition is causing my pussy to clench as it brushes on his clothed abdomen. The feeling is divine. Awakening. Making a sopping mess between my legs on top of the dripping mess I already was.
I tuck my legs around him, needing him closer. I hold his jaw between my hands. The smooth feel of his skin tickling my fingers overheats my core.
He pauses to nuzzle my nose and look into my eyes, “You’re driving me fucking crazy.” Backing me against the wall, he takes my hands and pins them above my head, exploring my mouth for what feels like hours.
Our fingers graze.
