Free A New Year's Surprise by Violette Dubrinsky

state of need made her somewhat shy but Damien’s touch and words made desperation override it.
    “Will you let me fuck you, Kat?”
    She was nodding before he even finished the question. “Yes. Damien...please.”
    “Please...?”
    “Please fuck me.”
    She felt a pinch at her hip and looked down to find Damien holding her torn, black thong in one hand. He allowed it to fall from his fingers to the floor before sweeping her up once more and moving her to the couch. Laying her down, he sucked at her lips hungrily, pulling away only to ask, “What should I fuck you with, Kat?”
    “Your cock.” The answer slid from her automatically. Kat’s filter had long since evaporated in the face of this desire.
    “Not yet, my greedy wife,” Damien murmured. “I haven’t tasted you in six months and I’m going to take my time relearning every inch of your pussy with my tongue.”
    Before she could respond, he’d pulled her hips to the edge of the couch, knelt between them and had his face buried between her legs. Falling back, Kat slid her hand into his hair, spread her legs wide and arched her hips, and began to scream her husband’s name.

Chapter 8
    She tasted better than he remembered.
    Damien had been a selfish lover before Kat, enjoying the receiving of oral sex, but never quite returning the favor, but with her, he could remain where he was for hours. Kat tasted tangy-sweet, like an overripe tangerine waiting to be plucked. As he pushed his tongue into her tight heat, she cried out and tightened her grip on his hair. A gush of her pleasure coated his tongue and her legs began to tremble, her cries growing louder and more frantic, and he knew she was close.
    Lifting one leg over his shoulder and parting her folds with his thumbs, he closed his lips over her pert bud and sucked as he inserted a finger into her tight channel. Her hips bucked as she tried to dislodge him but Damien was tenacious, holding fast until she began to ride his face and finger, and finally as her orgasm rolled through her, she slumped against the sofa. Spent.
    With a final lick, he lifted away from her pulsing pussy, pushed up from where he knelt and stared down at his wife. Her eyes were glazed, her mouth partially open to help with her breathing. Leaning down, he kissed her lips softly, before reaching under her body and hoisting her into his arms.
    ***
    “Get out.”
    Zaire couldn’t say she was shocked. She’d been waiting for the rude, entitled, judgmental, arrogant ass that was Gavin Locke to make his appearance, and there he was. Rugged good looks and seriously ripped body be damned, the man was still a bastard.
    With a scowl, she opened the door, slid both feet out, and fixed her coat.
    “You can close the door now.”
    Spinning on her heels, she leaned down to face him. “First of all, fuck you. Second, no one asked your pasty ass to drive me, you volunteered. And third, I hope you have a real shitty New Year.”
    He smirked and flashed some teeth in a showing that could not be called a smile. “First off, feeling’s mutual. Second, my pasty ass is two shades lighter than yours and you don’t have to hope about that last one, I’ve been having a shitty New Year for the past hour.” Eyeing the door, he continued, “Are you going to close that anytime soon?”
    Pulling herself up, she gripped the door preparing to slam it when Gavin called, “You break it, Damien breaks you.”
    Right.
    This was Damien’s car, the one no one saw because it was one of his prized possessions and he rarely used it. She had no gripe with Damien and definitely owed him for almost ruining his marriage, so she closed the door without slamming it.
    Catching sight of Gavin’s satisfied look, she turned away and looked up at the red-lit letters of Bar X calling to her. Zaire hadn’t been here in a while, almost a year, but she seriously needed Uriel’s mixed drinks to take her away from the fuckery of the day she’d just had. Today had had too many