Page 38 of The Burdens We Share (Satan’s Angels #3)
WE FLEW ONTO THE roof of an apartment building which I found confusing since I thought we’d be staying at a hotel.
Dallas later informed me that he owned the penthouse apartment on the highest floor of the building and that it was originally intended for him to use when he was visiting family, though the apartment didn’t get much of any use considering his father hates him.
It made my heart hurt for him because how could his own father hate him?
How could his father blame him for his mother’s death? The thought just wasn’t fair.
Dallas had someone stock up the refrigerator for us and I suspected he even had it cleaned because there wasn’t a spec of dust anywhere even though he hasn’t been here in some time.
Now, we’re washing the plates from dinner. Well, I’m washing and he’s drying. “Have you noticed something off with Selene lately?” I ask Dallas.
He contemplates my question for a moment before he answers, “I haven’t really noticed. I guess maybe she has been acting a little unlike herself, but I’m sure if anything is up with her it’s stress-related. She piles her plate up too much.”
“She thrives in chaos,” I add.
Dallas smiles to himself, “I remember those days.”
I laugh at him, “You do realize you still pile your plate up, right? Your company is so busy and yet you decided to offer yourself up to protect me. Why did you do that anyway?”
He puts the dish in his hand inside the cabinet and closes it, propping his hip on the counter as he responds, “Because I wanted an excuse to be close to you.”
I almost drop the plate in my hands as I turn to face him, “What?”
He shrugs, “I did it of course to keep you safe because you needed the protection, but I also wanted to be close to you.”
I point to myself, soap suds dripping down my finger, “To me?”
Dallas chuckles, “Yes, Ivory.”
My mouth gapes at him. “You wanted to be close to me. I thought you didn’t like me.”
He looks stunned, “Why would you ever think that?”
I give him a look as if the answer is obvious, “Perhaps because you looked at me like you wanted to kill me every time we were around each other.”
He sighs, shaking his head. “That was because I couldn’t express my emotions correctly.”
I raise a brow, “And you can now?”
He rolls his eyes at me, “I’m working on it.”
“So is that why you took me to Texas?” I ask, suspicion in my voice. “To be close to me?”
His playful and amused expression falls and he looks at me as if I’m a business partner.
“No. I took you here because I know you once dreamed of achieving what your father never could and I wanted to make that happen for you. I want you to feel like your father is looking down on you with pride because you made his dream come true. And I want you to feel that love that he will always have for you and start projecting it onto yourself and loving yourself.”
I’m so overwhelmed with emotion for him that my heart almost hurts. He pushes off the counter and takes the plate from my hand, setting it down in the strainer before he places both hands on my hips and presses his length against my stomach, caging me into the counter.
My nipples immediately pucker with my arousal.
His being this close to me has my center dampening even through all of our clothes.
I look up at his hooded eyes expectantly and he looks like he’s battling his conscience internally.
Whatever the war is over, he loses because he crashes his lips down on mine.
His kiss is hungry and his arms immediately roam up my body, one hand settling on my jaw and the other in my hair.
I grip his dress shirt in my fists and pull him closer even though we can’t get much closer than we are now, pressed against each other’s bodies.
He groans into my mouth as his tongue finds mine and I rise on my toes instinctively to get closer to him.
Sensing my effort, he reaches down and hooks his arms around my thighs, lifting me off the ground effortlessly and wrapping my legs around his waist. Dallas places me on the counter and stands between my legs.
Our hands are a mess of wandering touches and desperate grasps. I need more of him because if I don’t I feel like I might combust. I ache to feel his skin on mine more than I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life.
I start to unbutton his shirt and he helps me until his shirt is undone and I push the material off of his shoulders.
I let my hands wander over his warm skin and my core aches for him as my fingers find all of his hardened muscles.
He makes quick work of removing my top and he grunts in pleasure when he finds I’m not wearing a bra.
He palms and kneads my breasts and I arch my back, jutting my breasts closer to him.
He removes his mouth from mine and trails kisses along my jaw before he focuses his efforts on my nipples, sucking and licking the puckered flesh. “Fuck, Dallas,” I moan in pure pleasure from the warmth of his tongue on my nipple.
“That’s right, Little Devil. Say my fucking name,” he commands on a growl.
He slides a hand over my pussy through my jeans and I shiver, “Dallas.”
He smirks as he pulls away from my breasts and starts to unbutton my jeans. I watch him with desperation and need in my eyes as he focuses his attention on getting me out of my jeans. He unzips them and asks, “Am I about to find another scrap of lace?”
I smirk and keep my mouth shut as he pulls my jeans down.
I help him by lifting my hips and he slides them all the way down my legs, revealing a white lacy little thong much like the g-string I wore that day in my childhood bedroom.
He meets my eyes and there’s so much hunger in them, I’m almost tempted to say fuck it to the foreplay and ask to be fucked right now.
He rubs a finger over my pussy through the lace and I moan as he smirks, “You’ve soaked this little scrap of lace, Little Devil. ”
I roll my hips in need of more pressure from his fingers and he chuckles, “Someone is needy.”
“Please,” I beg, my voice breathy.
He laughs silently as he uses both hands to tear my thong apart. I gasp, “Dallas!”
His voice is husky as he leans in close to my lips, “I’ll buy you a million of these lacy little things if that means I can keep ruining them.”
I laugh and he kisses me, running his fingers through my slippery folds. He plays with me, rubbing that sensitive spot and I clench around nothing, desperate to be filled. He dips a finger inside of me and I moan, breaking our kiss as I arch my head back. “Eyes on me,” he demands and I obey.
His finger curls inside me as he uses his thumb to build pressure on my clit.
My center feels so warm as if a fire has started inside my belly.
This man knows how to use his fingers. I feel the pressure inside of me rising and he suddenly adds a second finger, pressing them both against that sensitive spot. “Oh my God,” I cry out.
“One finger wasn’t enough for you, was it? You wanted two in your tight little pussy,” he growls as he kisses my jaw.
The filthiness of his words is enough to have my chest and cheeks turning red with a blush.
There’s something about his low, husky voice that makes the things he says ten times hotter.
He removes his lips from my jaw and lowers himself to his knees and I suck in a surprised breath as he continues working me with his fingers, but removes his thumb from my clit and replaces it with his tongue.
My head falls back on my shoulders and I make a sound of pure pleasure.
“I said eyes on me,” he breathes against my pussy and I obey him, looking down at him as he fucks me with his fingers and drives me wild with his tongue.
In a matter of moments, I feel my core tightening and rapid breaths escaping my lungs as my orgasm finds me.
Just when I’m about to come, he curls his fingers and I cry out so loud in pleasure as my body starts to shiver with wave after wave of ecstasy.
When the effects start to lessen, he removes his mouth from my clit and slowly removes his fingers from inside of me before he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, dropping them to the floor.
I sit up straighter and practically salivate at the sight of his hard length pressing against the black fabric of his boxers.
I reach for it, palming him through the fabric and he steps in closer to me, making my job easier.
I stroke him through the fabric and look up at his eyes, finding something different in them than what I’m used to.
It almost reminds me of the Dallas I first met because I can’t read the expression.
As I run my palm against his length, I realize two things.
The first is that he’s a lot bigger than anyone I’ve ever seen or been with, and the second is that I’m falling head over heels for this man.
I reach inside his boxers and stroke him.
He makes a low humming sound at the back of his throat and it only urges me on.
I use my other hand to push his boxers down and he helps me.
I spot a glistening bead of precum at his tip and use my thumb to swirl it around, lubricating him before an idea comes to me.
I push off the counter and sink to my knees, having to lean up a little higher because of his impressive height and I grab his cock in my fist, looking up at his lust-filled eyes. “What are you doing, Little Devil?”
“Sucking your cock,” I respond before I slide my tongue under his shaft and use it to trail one long lick up to his tip. He shivers beneath me before he threads his fingers through my hair.
He grunts, “Never has your nickname been more tempting.” I almost laugh, but keep my efforts focused on pleasing him the way he’s pleased me so many times.