Seven Nights of Sin (Penthouse Affair #2)

Chapter 31 Presley

Presley

I could kiss Dominic’s neck all night. My tongue trails across the thick line of muscle, finding the vein that quivers when I nip on it . . . and from the sounds he’s making, I think he’d let me kiss his neck all week. As we rock against each other with our limbs entwined, our lovemaking has elevated from awkward and ungraceful to positively divine.

Lovemaking. That’s what this feels like.

His eyes are searing deep into mine, no longer a power play or a challenge to see who will look away first. Now our gaze feels like balance. It’s like he’s finally seeing something in me . . . something that he wants in his life. This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Is that even possible? My heart surges with the idea.

He groans again and kisses me hard on the mouth, and my mind goes blank. Now experienced lovers, we coax each other over the edge of pleasure. There are no more games or teasing. We help each other get there with the assurance that there will be time later for games.

I shudder when I come, feeling my inner walls wrap and pull against him buried deep within me. I bite my lip, trying to hold back the scream that’s perched on my tongue. It starts to escape as the orgasm intensifies.

“Shh, shh, shh.”

He covers my mouth with his, and I moan loudly into his kiss, trembling.

His cock twitches inside me, making me quiver and arch my back. The clenching of my body is enough for him to lose control. I’ve grown greedy for the look on his face when he falls apart. His dark blue eyes sink closed, his brow furrows, and his full lips part.

“Fuck,” he says on a breath.

The exhale after his orgasm is always shaky and hot against my neck. He lifts his head to meet my eyes and licks his lips. I smile down at him. He smiles back.

“What?”

“I’m just looking at you,” I say, pushing his sweaty hair off of his forehead.

“Hmm.” He hums, tucking my hair behind my ears. “And for how long are you going to look at me?”

“For as long as you’ll let me.”

I grin, then attack him with quick kisses, one on his nose, and one on each of his cheeks, his forehead, and his chin. He laughs as I turn his head this way and that to get the right angle.

Suddenly, he takes control, pulling us back onto the cool sheets. His arms are tight around me, his legs rubbing against mine. This time, we’re most definitely cuddling. I whine when he moves away.

“I’ll be back,” he says with a laugh. “I just need to clean up.”

He gestures to his dick, still sheathed in a condom and my slickness, and I blush. I never knew sex was so messy. Seeing my shyness, he leans in with a growl and bites me softly on the neck until I dissolve into laughter. When he comes back from the bathroom, he wraps me in his arms like he’d never left at all.

I would forsake all the pillows in the world if I could sleep on Dominic’s chest every night.

Would it really be every night, though?

I’m too overcome with sleep to doubt myself further. With the scent of him all around me, and the feel of his strong arms holding me close, I drift off.

• • •

Thump, thump, thump, thump!

I wake with a start.

Thump, thump, thump, thump!

“What is that?” I ask, my eyes wide with panic.

Dominic is already out of bed, throwing on a shirt and pair of sweats. “Someone is knocking on my front door. Stay here.”

Dread sinks into my skin like a cold rain. Who could be here at this hour? It’s not even five o’clock in the morning. Fran would know better than to knock so loudly and wake the girls. I peek my head into the hall and hear murmuring voices.

What’s going on?

I throw on one of Dominic’s shirts, doing up the buttons as fast as my fingers will let me. I tiptoe into the hallway, past the girls’ room, closing their door on the way, amazed that they must have slept through the pounding. Thank God.

When I get to the end of the hall and peek around the corner, I’m relieved to see Oliver.

“What’s happening?” Dominic says in a stern voice.

Whatever this is, it seems serious. I should respect his privacy . . . but I need to know. I lean against the wall, just out of sight. Listening.

“You weren’t answering your phone. I thought you’d want to know right away.”

“Know what?”

“It’s a media circus,” Oliver says in a concerned tone I’ve never heard him use before. Usually, his voice is playful, or at least cheerful. “You have to turn on the news.”

I hear the shuffling of feet and a soft click as Dom turns on the television. I peek my head around the corner, momentarily blinded by the brightness of the TV in the darkness of the room.

“Which channel?” he asks.

“All of them,” Oliver says solemnly.

Dominic turns back to the screen. I squint to read the words, and my heart falls right out of my chest. The headline panning underneath the anchor’s austere expression reads:

breaking news: ceo pays for sex. escort reveals all.

Oh my God.