Free Messalina: Devourer of Men by Zetta Brown Page B

scent from the curve of my neck and nibbles my jaw. I place my hands on his shoulders and tilt my face for a welcome kiss. He grabs my hips and jerks me forward to introduce me to the extent of his desire. I gasp, allowing his tongue deeper access to my mouth. He reaches between us to untie the belt of my robe and gives it some slack so it falls beneath the swell of my bottom. Then he lassoes me close once again.
                “How was your day?” I murmur against his lips.
                “Filled with thoughts of you,” he replies and kisses me harder. I increase the force and loosen his tie.
                “This is it,” I say, pulling away. “No more stalling.”
                “So who’s stalling?” He grins as two of his fingers dive deep inside me, making me jump at the suddenness of his attack. “Follow me, sugar.”
                With calm assertiveness, and using a method more effective than any choke chain, he leads me to the bedroom but stops short inside the threshold when he sees the trolley. He turns and gives me a heart-melting grin. “Good thinking.”
                As he guides me to the bed, my robe slips to the floor. Suppressed excitement bubbles from my mouth in the form of a giggle. He glances at me over his shoulder.
                “What’s so funny?” He gives me a sharp tug, stimulating me in the process.
                “Ooh! Nothing,” I gasp, taming my urge to come.
    Taking the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket, he sits on the edge of the bed and pours it into twin glasses. He hands me one and as I take a sip, a wicked grin comes to his lips.
                “Cootchie cootchie coo!” he teases, wiggling his fingers inside me.
                My right hand shoots out and clasps his shoulder to balance myself, causing me to lean forward. He uses the opportunity to kiss between my breasts. Keeping my eyes closed, I stroke his hair, luxuriating in it as his fingers push further. My eyelids flutter as he licks the bud of my left nipple. Opening my eyes, I see him put down his glass and reach for a strawberry from the tray. He takes a bite of the giant berry.
                “Nice and sweet.” He nods. “But it needs something.”
                I look down at him with glazed eyes only to meet his amethyst stare. He takes the berry and strokes it against my slit. I bite my lip at the sensation of cool strawberry flesh dripping with its own juice as it  mingles with mine. He gently taps the berry against my swollen clitoris, sending white-hot flashes up my spine and into my brain and I see stars before my eyes. Sighing, I coat the strawberry with my own cream.
                “Whoa there, girl!” He reaches up and grabs my drink before the glass slips from my fingers. He removes the fruit from me and pops it into his mouth.
    “Delicious. Much better.” He swallows and lies back on his elbows. His eyes scan my face, noting my lack of composure, and his lips curve up with amusement. That little episode drained me and we haven’t started yet.
                “Do any shopping today?” he asks in a husbandly way and grins with the same self-confidence I noticed in my apartment.
                “Yes, I did. And thank you for the loan.”
                “It wasn’t a loan. A lady needs her things.”
                He says it in a way to leave no room for discussion and I don’t want to spoil the moment. Luckily the nightstand is only a step away, because my legs are about to give. I open the top drawer and lift out a small bag. “I discovered a nice boutique that reminded me of you.”
                I toss it to him. He reads the receipt and laughs. Reaching inside, he takes out several small jars of body paint, two brushes—and several boxes of condoms.
                “Since you’re the