No Strings Attached

Chapter Eight

I have never wanted anything this badly.

When my fingers drift upwards over the hard peaks of his chest, I can't control myself. My lips are suddenly on him, pressing over and over, my tongue drifting across his skin. His fingers grip the back of my neck, his inhale releasing strong as I worship his body, overcome with my need for him.

Blind with lust, my hands drop to his waistband as my lips continue to taste him. I pull off his belt, moaning as his fingers begin to pull out the bun beneath the blindfold with haste.

I don't care when his fingers get caught. I don't care.

I pull down his pants when the buttons are free, taking down his briefs as well. It's then I realize he's still wearing shoes. I bend down, removing them, and quickly make my way back up as he kicks off the only clothing still remaining between us.

For the first time ever, my mouth collides roughly with his. His hands, strong and sure, grasp each side of my face as his long, driven kiss affects every atom in my body, every nerve. The assault of his tongue—unbarred, wild, confident—makes me believe I've only just started living... right now. Right in this moment.

I'm clawing at him, trying to get closer even though I'm flat against him, able to feel his bare skin against my own.

God, when did I ever think I could resist this?

Suddenly, his lips tear from my own. Our exhales are loud, exposing sounds.

"Put your hands on the glass," he commands, darkness taking over. I don't think twice. I am his for the taking.

I turn, my fingers finding the chilly glass. I press my face against it, too, trying to find my brain again.

"I was at work yesterday, in the middle of a goddamn preview... just thinking of the taste of you made me hard."

He was thinking about me...

His hands suddenly touch me, grasping the front of my thighs, his body directly behind mine. "Did you think of me? Did you touch yourself, imagining my face between your legs?"

The truth pours from me like a flood. "All the fucking time."

His lips press to my spine, his tongue glides down my lower back. I realize he's bending down behind me. Within seconds, he's pulling my legs apart from each other and forcing me to bend to his will. His hands, his lips caress my backside, and I realize what he's doing.

His mouth is suddenly on me, his wicked tongue exploring, delving into my folds. His hands keep me in place, for I'm sure I'd collapse if they were not there.

"Gio," I breathe, gasping for air I do not have. He turns me with ease, slamming my back into the glass, his fingers digging into my leg as he lifts it over his shoulder so his mouth can find the best access to my pleasure.

My fingers take his hair in fistfuls as his firm lips surround me, his feathery tongue nudging my body into awareness. All around us is the scent of me.

I can barely stand. One of his hands moves over my backside, keeping my sex to him while gaining the strength to support me as my body begins to give in to his work.

"Yes," I utter, nodding to myself, feeling my body begin to tingle. "Yes. Yes. God, yes."

I feel my head fall back, slamming into the glass, but I'm unable to feel the pain as his relentless tongue brings me to climax, holding my trembling form in his strong grip. I see stars in the darkness now.

I hear him gasp throatily as his mouth pulls back, his lips against my thigh.

"Please," I breathe with desperation, grasping onto his shoulders, begging him to stand. "Please, Giovanni."