Not Until You by Roni Loren

Author:Roni Loren
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group, USA
Published: 2014-10-20T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-TWO

Mmm. I shifted beneath the covers, my legs sliding languidly through the luxurious linens as my mind drifted in that haze between sleeping and wakefulness. Pitch-black darkness pressed against my eyelids, and I felt as if I were floating in a sun-heated ocean, the waves rocking me gently. My skin had gone warm all over, and some sound was drifting from my lips, but I couldn’t quite grab on to what I was trying to say.

“Time to wake up, angel.” The statement was quiet, as if coming from a place just out of my reach.

Wake up . . . wake up . . . But before my mind could grab on to the words or their meaning, something warm and wet moved between my thighs, stroking me. That vaulted me right to the surface of consciousness. My eyelids flew open in the darkness, and I automatically tried to reach out, but my arms jerked backward—bound to something behind me.

Teeth nibbled.

“Oh, God.”

Foster laughed softly, his puffs of breath coasting over my already damp skin. “There you are. I was starting to wonder if you were going to come in your sleep.”

He licked me again right along my cleft, and I tried to push my knees together. But, of course, my legs didn’t cooperate. “I can’t move.”

“Kind of the point.” His tongue circled my clit, teasing and tasting like he was exploring me for the first time even though he’d been deep inside me only a few hours ago. A languid rush of oh yes went through my nerve endings, my body responding as if I’d never come before, everything stirring to life and aching already.

I moaned and he tucked fingers inside me while laving at my sensitized skin. My back curved upward off the bed, and my gaze rolled toward the ceiling. Everything was so black, the windowless room providing no relief—an abyss of pleasure and feeling without the distraction of sight. But before my eyes shut again, a small red dot in the far corner of the room snagged my attention.

“Foster,” I whispered.

“Hmm” he said, obviously distracted with his strategic destruction of every bit of my self-control. Because even as anxiety was welling, my muscles were tightening and my hips were rocking toward him, urging him on.

“What’s that red light for?”

There was the sound of sheets rustling and then little sparks—the dark so absolute that I could see the static electricity firing. He kissed the inside of my knee, and I could sense he was looking at me now, his gaze holding weight even in the void. “It’s a camera, angel. A lot of the rooms here are monitored.”

My heart jumped in my throat and lodged there. “People are watching us.”

“Shh,” he said, kissing down my thigh again. “It’s not for public viewing—we could open the window by the door if we wanted that. It’s only dungeon monitors who keep an eye on things for safety reasons.

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