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almost cried. “I did it for you. I didn’t think you’d see it, but I did it for you.” I panted harder but couldn’t catch my breath.
     
    I could see something move in the darkness of his eyes as what I’d said registered. His face stilled and he leaned his forehead against mine. Suddenly he looked straight at me as he stabbed two fingers into my soaking slit, and growled, “Mine!” I let out a keening cry and he dragged his thumb back and forth across my swollen clit until I couldn’t stand it anymore and my pussy clenched around his fingers as the first waves of my orgasm ripped through me. My legs refused to hold me and I would’ve crumpled to the floor if Donovan hadn’t caught me. He swung me into his strong arms as if I weighed nothing, and strode across the penthouse to the bedroom.
     
    He sat me on the edge of the king-sized bed, and in my beclouded state, I only halfway noticed the perfume of fresh flowers, but when I opened my eyes fully I saw that the bedroom was full of them. Vases filled with every imaginable flower covered all the available surfaces.
     
    I opened my mouth to ask about them, but Donovan put his finger on my lips. “Don’t ask,” he said. “They’re a luxury you should expect, sweetheart. They are lovely, but they pale in comparison.” He untied the neck of my halter dress allowing the fabric to pool at my waist his hands coming down to cup my breasts. He rolled my nipples lightly between his thumbs and forefingers. “Your skin is softer than their petals.” He brought his fingers to his face. “And your scent is more intoxicating.” I moaned again, overwhelmed by his blatant sexuality. He smiled a wicked smile and licked his fingers clean.
     
    I arched my back pressing my breasts into his chest and was rewarded with a guttural moan. He lowered his mouth to an aching nipple and teased it with his tongue before taking it between his teeth and tugging on it. He teased the other nipple with his fingers and I looked into those storm-gray eyes and begged him not to stop.
     
    My hair was wild around my head. My nipples were hard and thrusting. My eyes were wide and glazed with desire, and all I could think about was Donovan. I wanted to wrap myself in him, breathe him in, taste him, swallow him, and consume him entirely. I raised my hands to his and placed them on the waistband of my dress. At my silent suggestion, he loosened its fastenings and lifted my ass off the bed so he could slide it into a pile at my feet.
     
    He kneeled before me at the edge of the bed staring at me sitting in nothing but my stockings, garters and heels. He pulled me to the edge of the bed and slowly, tantalizingly, ran a finger up my leg, starting at my ankle and then to my knee and then my thigh. He teased the tender skin at the top of my stocking again, and then trailed that finger higher, teasing my hot, wet passage. I gasped, almost falling back bonelessly on the bed only managing to stay in place by clutching Donovan’s shoulders.
     
    “You want me, Pet,” Donovan said softly. “I know you do. I want to hear you say it, though. Tell me what you want.” It was spoken softly, but it was a command, and my pussy got even wetter at the sound. It was always like this with him. He demanded that I lower my defenses and give him everything.
     
    I fought myself trying to find some way—any way—to keep some shred of control, but Donovan kept me off balance stroking my wet slit lightly and then pushing in one finger and then two and then drawing back until I was writhing and moaning and couldn’t stand any more.
     
    “Yes,” I cried. “I want you. You’re the first thing I think of in the morning, and the last thing I think of at night. I imagine it’s your fingers on me when I play with myself, and I remember your body in my dreams.” I spat the words at him. In that moment, I almost hated him. I hated knowing that he could just walk away. He had never made a commitment. He made no