Then he stops, daring and challenging me. He seems to be saying, Still stubborn, little fawn?
So I press myself against his cock, pushing until he’s sheathed by me, inch by delicious inch. I let out a soft moan at the hot, wet friction, the feel of him filling me. He hisses between his teeth, his fingers tight on my ass. Then I move, sliding myself along the thick, long shaft that seems hard enough to break bricks.
Bliss spreads like a mist over my bare skin. But it isn’t enough. No matter how frenzied I get, no matter how hard or fast I move, I can’t re-create the raw power of his thrusts, the shocking electric sensation that seems to make my scalp prickle with an orgasm.
But Tolyan doesn’t move. Not even a little. The climax I want is so, so close, but so far away. I can’t reach it on my own. I need him.
“Please,” I beg. “Please.”
“What do you want me to do, little fawn?” he whispers.
“Take me,” I say. “Fuck me hard, the way only you can.” I lower my shoulders, pushing my ass up higher in offering.
His breathing changes, and there’s a low rumble from his throat. He grips my hips, thick fingers digging into the flesh. Delightful anticipation pools between my legs.
He drives into me. All that force. All that power. I feel the impact of his thrusts to the tips of my fingers, to the roots of the hair on my head. My back arches as pleasure wraps around me, tightens its hold.
The sound of flesh slapping is a huge turn-on. I’m on fire for him. Even as a climax claims me and I’m screaming his name like my life depends on it, it isn’t enough. I want more of him. I want him to screw me until this monstrous need he’s awakened is sated.
Tolyan sinks his fingers in my hair and pulls my head back, raising my torso. He puts his teeth into my shoulder, not biting but as a carnassial clasping of flesh, and slides the other hand up under my body to grasp one breast. And holding me like that, in the most primitive and savage grip possible, he plunders me.
And I know we won’t be sleeping tonight.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Angelika
My eyes are bleary from lack of sleep. We finally collapsed in utter exhaustion as the light of the dawn ran its fingers into the room. Tolyan told me to get some sleep, and I think I got maybe an hour.
Now the only thing keeping me lucid and functioning is endless coffee. The break room at the foundation is well stocked.
Note to self: next time we have a wild sex marathon, pick a Friday or Saturday.
To make the sleep deprivation worse, the foundation is buzzing with new activity. Rhonda runs around with a huge list in her hand, making sure she has everything checked off, and that means I need to be rushing around to assist her. Apparently, we have a bachelor auction coming up, and Elizabeth has decided, rather abruptly last night, that some changes are needed because the event’s been getting “boring” the last few years.
At three thirty, she calls a meeting. Since Rhonda is going, I tag along too.
The conference room is on the opposite end of the floor from Elizabeth’s office. It’s big enough to seat ten people with a table in the center and a projector set up for PowerPoint. Tolyan sits next to me, self-possessed, calm and looking disgustingly fresh and rested. What’s his secret?
Rhonda and Patrice go over the financial objectives and exactly how the money raised will be split among some projects the foundation is planning on. There are detailed numbers for everything, including supporting the causes the foundation’s championed over the years.
“Excellent. Thank you both,” Elizabeth says. “You’ve done a wonderful job, and it’s exactly as I’d hoped for.”
The two women beam. I let out a relieved sigh—they’ve been working so hard on that presentation. Elizabeth is friendly and sweet, but she doesn’t let anything slide at work.
“Now. The location of the bachelor auction,” Elizabeth says. “We generally use a hotel, but I want to do something different this time. The event’s in June, so I want it to feel warm, pretty and outdoorsy, but not too casual. I want this to be the kind of event that makes people relax and dump money on the bachelors. Any suggestions?”
“A vineyard?” Patrice says.
“Hard to reserve for a full day, and security can be tricky,” Tolyan says.
“There’s an estate with a gorgeous château I know, but I doubt that would work.” Elizabeth shakes her head. “Plus, I don’t want to do it in France. The money raised is mainly for domestic causes involving women’s shelters and community centers for underprivileged children.”
“How about a domestic destination, like Hawaii or something?” I suggest. I’ve gotten used to speaking up. Rhonda has been taking me to all the biweekly meetings and encouraging me to share my thoughts. No matter how wild my ideas are, nobody ever puts me down or makes me feel bad for coming up with them.
“A domestic location is good, but Hawaii won’t work. Most people don’t want to spend that kind of time. Time is money for them, and the trip won’t be deductible, either,” Elizabeth points out kindly.
“How about the grove your family owns? The Pryce side, not the Reed side,” Tolyan says. The slightly chilled tone as he says “the Reed side” indicates he isn’t too fond of them. “It’s exclusive and secure enough, especially since nobody can go there other than by invitation. The foundation bears the Pryce name, so I imagine Salazar Pryce would be willing to lend it to help the cause. If not, you can speak to Ceinlys first. He’ll do whatever she asks.”