by Shayne Ford
“I lived on my own for some time.”
A question tickles my lips, but I push it back.
He observes me for a few moments.
“I had a life before I started doing this.”
He doesn’t say what ‘this’ is, but I assume it’s the escort business.
Another question pops into my head. I am eager to ask him, but I hesitate.
Regardless, I am baffled that he hasn’t had any clients for the past few days. He doesn’t seem to be in a rush to go anywhere, and his phone doesn’t ring as often as I imagined that it would.
I get busy with the table for a few moments before the words start slipping to my lips.
“How come you, um...?”
I pause, although I think I’ve cued him in.
We both lower in our seats.
“Say it,” he says, smiling.
“Your clients. How come you were free this past few days?”
He looks down, his cheeks flushed.
“I don’t meet a lot of clients. That’s why it’s hard to get a date with me.”
I take a long breath and fidget in my seat, uncomfortable with the topic, but unable to forget about it.
His hand lands on mine, but my eyes trail on the table.
“Look at me, Eve.”
I raise my eyes.
“There is nothing to be worried about. All right?”
“You want me to trust you, blindly?”
“Yes, I do. I am here with you because I like you.”
“I like you too.”
“Good.”
He leans closer to me and gives me a soft kiss on my cheek.
I turn to mush.
“Let’s eat. I’m starving,” he says as he pulls away.
He pours wine into the glasses while I slide the food onto the plates. I leave the table for a moment to light a few candles and set them on the table.
I let the counter light on.
“It’s perfect,” he says, waiting for me to take a seat across from him.
He motions me to my drink before he raises his glass.
“What are we drinking for?” I ask.
“For us,” he says.
His confidence makes me soft inside.
I search his eyes for a moment.
“For us,” I say with a self-assured voice.
I take a sip of wine.
“It’s good,” I comment, setting the glass down.
We start to eat.
“I never thought that I’d have you here,” I say after a few moments.
I raise my eyes.
“Why it’s so hard to believe?”
I gesture with my fork.
“There’s a big difference between your fancy hotel suite and my place.”
He looks around the open layout kitchen, and the living room as well.
“I love your place,” he says. “More than my hotel room,” he adds, winking at me.
“Thank you.”
He takes a bite of food, and drinks more wine, enjoying everything with passion. The food, the wine, and me.
He looks like someone who relishes this kind of life–– eating around the kitchen table, drinking a glass of wine, talking with someone. He doesn’t put space between us. He closes the space between us.
He wants closeness.
Frankly, I didn’t expect that from someone like him.
“So you’re not a fan of eating in the hotel room.”
“No. Not really,” he says, setting the fork and the knife down.
He pours more wine into my glass.
“I never eat in my room.”
A thought starts bouncing around in my head.
“That first night when we met in your hotel room. There was no dinner table set up for us.”
The hand holding his glass of wine stops midair before he puts his drink down.
“What are you talking about?”
“The man at the concierge mentioned something about dinner being ready in my ‘friend’s room’–– your room.”
“Ah... Yeah. There must’ve been a misunderstanding. I never order food in my room,” he says, his eyes avoiding mine. “It’s not something that I like to do.”
“Oh... I see,” I mutter, puzzled.
My eyes linger on the table for a moment.
“Are you done?” I ask.
“Yes.”
We both rise out of our seats.
He cleans his side of the table while I collect my plate and slip it into the dishwasher along with his.
He grabs the glasses of wine while I set the small lemon curd tarts on a plate and head to the living room.
He follows me and places the glasses on the coffee table.
“Are you going home for Christmas?” he asks as we both sink into the plush couch.
“Usually, I do. But this year, it depends, I guess.”
“On what?”
“A lot of things,” I say, grinning mysteriously.
His eyes darken for a moment.
“You have to trust me as well,” I mutter.
“I do,” he says with a resolute voice.
“How come?”
“I know women.”
“Thank you for reminding me.”
An amused smile tugs at his lips.
He leans forward and picks one of the small fruity tarts. I expect him to pop it into his mouth.
Instead, he brings it to my lips.
Our eyes meet above the fluffy cloud of whipped cream.
“Take a bite,” he says, holding it up for my convenience.
His gaze stays on me, reading my expression, drinking me in, and taking in my lips.
I slowly open my mouth and sink my teeth into the crust, my upper lip diving into the blob of cream, the blueberry sauce dripping on my tongue, the aroma of fresh lemon curd rolling over my taste buds.
I take a bite, his eyes sparkling as he indulges in the image.
He pulls the rest of the dessert away from my lips, observing me as I slowly chew and swallow.
His eyes glint with a smile as I stick the tip of my tongue out and lick a morsel of whipped cream off my lips.
“More?” he asks, a quiet sensual chuckle vibrating in his chest.
I get caught in his game.
“Mmm-hmm. It’s perfect.”
He brings his hand to my mouth again, my eyes slipping for a moment below his chin as I take in his sculpted shoulders, his muscular neck, his bulging biceps, and strong forearms.
The hands of an artist.
He feeds me again.
This time our affair gets even messier.
The whipped cream begins to melt and starts dripping on my chin as I slowly chew on the luscious dessert, my eyes locked with his.
A fiery smile burns through his gaze as he lowers his eyelids and looks at me with trance-inducing bedroom eyes. Spellbound, I watch him tip his gaze to my mouth.
I chew slowly and swallow even slower, my taste buds swept by the fruity flavor, my lips tingling as he slides his thumb from right to left, wiping a few drops of blueberry sauce mixed with whipped cream.
He draws it to his mouth and sucks it clean before he brings it to my lips again. He wipes away another drop of sinful pleasure before he parts my lips and slides his thumb into my mouth.
My senses scream with pleasure.
I wrap my lips around his finger and gently suck, tasting the sweetness of the dessert and inhaling the aroma of his cologne.
He erases the space between us, bringing his mouth to me. Hot lips trace my chin leaving hot kisses as he licks the cream off me.
My quiet moan vibrates around his finger.
“Christian...” I murmur.
He trails down, below my chin, chasing the drops sliding down my neck. His lips are hot. His breath is hotter. My blood is brewing heat.
Goosebumps run across my chest, my hard nipples poking at my T-shirt. His hand goes up my flank until it cups a breast, his mouth trailing down until his lips capture my ni
pple through the light fabric.
“Oh... Fuck...” I murmur, sweet tension mixing with growing pleasure straight between my legs.
My nails dig deep into his neck.
He bites the hard tip of my breast before he makes the trip back, leaving a trail of kisses up my neck.
His palm glides up my neck too as my tongue swirls around his thumb. Quietly, I moan in pleasure.
It takes a few moments before his finger smoothly leaves my mouth, and his lips crash onto mine.
In one motion, we swirl our tongues together, tasting the aroma of fruit, cream, and our heated flesh.
I wish I could say his name, but his mouth presses on mine, his kiss sending tides of pleasure through my body.
My skin begins to burn.
“I’m so hot...” I say, drawing a breath between his kisses.
He breaks away from me, rises tall, grabs the back of his T-shirt and peels it off in one swift motion.
My mouth drops open in surprise.
Oh... my.
Hard muscles shift like snakes around his arms and shoulders, his tattoo spreading on half of his chest. There’s not much time to study him before he grabs the hemline of my T-shirt and rolls it off.
Cold air while meets my skin while his eyes slide to my nipples. A wanton smile grows on his lips. With one hand, he grabs the back of my neck and pulls me up to him.
“You are even more beautiful than I imagined...” he says.
Spellbound, I look at him as he observes me thoroughly.
His hands wrap around my neck, his thumbs rubbing my bottom lip, his eyes smiling as he soaks in every inch of my face.
He looks down–– I knew he would, his touch trailing down as well before his hands cup my mounds and his thumbs stroke my nipples. Tension lodges into my belly while the wetness damps my panties, my hunger asking to be quenched.
He rubs my nipples again, sending tingles to my sex, and then he kneads my chest, watching my expression shift.
My lips open as my neck tilts back, my eyes getting heavy. I put my hands on top of his, a sense of urgency growing in my touch.
Our eyes lock again, his stare filled with hunger, mine hazy as I slip into a trance.
“You’ll love it...” he quietly says, a soft smile tilting his lips.
His hands come to my neck again, his thumbs pressing into my flesh as he starts kissing me again.
He begins slowly, teasing me, parting my lips, giving me a taste of tenderness mixed with the raw passion of an unforgiving bite.
My lip hurts, but my heart wants more.
We lock our mouths into a sensual dance of tongues and lips and heat and pleasure. I moan breathlessly, dizzy on my shaking knees.
My arms go around his neck as he pulls me into his chest.
Oh, the marvel of that sensation. Skin sliding onto skin, my body witnessing every bump and valley of his torso, absorbing his warmth, and every beat of pulsing blood and drop of sweat.
Breasts crushed against his chest, I hang onto him, my arms locked around his neck as he tilts his hips and let me feel the hard ridge of his erection.
Untethered, my hands start sliding down, my fingers learning the contour of his body, our lips still locked, our breaths still shared.
His hands glide across my skin as well, trailing the curvature of my spine, splaying fingers on my backside, slipping fingertips beneath the waistband of my sweatpants.
His touch traces my rear, his palms cupping my butt cheeks, squeezing them–– parting them, before his hands slide even lower.
I clutch his neck.
His fingers are long and deftly.
“Christian... “ I mumble, my mouth filled with him.
His kiss hardness as I harden like a coiled spring.
He pulls me into him, crashing my chest against his hards pecs, making me feel his long hard shaft grinding against my belly.
Without the slightest hesitation, he slips his fingers under the band of fabric strapped up my butt. The material is warm and drenched as is the flesh beneath it.
He slides his fingers lower. I jerk against his rock hard body.
“Easy...” he murmurs against my lips, a smile flashing in his voice.
He curls his fingers, gently stroking the wet flesh between my legs. Electric currents swoop down my thighs.
I barely stand as my sex begins to pulse.
Arching my spine, I thrust my bottom out and tilt my hips, my hand going to the waistband of his pants.
“Touch me...” he quietly rasps, his fingers dipping in my wetness.
Another shudder falls through me, making me jolt against his chest.
“Relax...” he says, grinning again.
I try, my hand filled with his erection.
Slowly, I sweep his hard length with my hand before I feel his thick girth.
A bucket of ice wouldn’t quench the fire flowing through my body.
“Easy baby...” he says, as I squeeze his cock through his jeans, and leave kisses on his skin–– his jawline, ropy neck, and then down on his chest.
He drives me crazy.
Crazy good.
Crazy hungry.
He runs his hand past my entrance, his touch pressing against my center, his fingertips parting my folds. He leans toward me while I hold onto him, arching as much as I can, my balance precarious.
“I know that you want it...” he murmurs, sensing my growing need.
Gently, he strokes my clit, the smooth circling making me harden even more. I rock my hips, rubbing myself against his touch.
“Tell me when to stop...” he says teasingly, a grin lining his voice.
“Don’t stop...” I say through clipped, shallow breaths.
“Then...” he murmurs and pauses.
My hand goes down his fly, pulling his zipper down.
He slowly nods.
“Good girl... Now show me...” he tosses at me with a sultry voice.
He pulls his fingers back from my folds just a little before he slowly slips them into me. A growl shakes out of my chest as my center clenches around him.
“Good.”
He draws them out and grabs my butt.
I pull his erection out.
“Show me, baby.”
My sex is wet and warm and throbbing, craving relief.
I pull his jeans down his hips just a little before I slide down to my knees.
He looks down at me, an eyebrow arched, his lips creased into a crooked grin.
“Slowly...” he says as his erection bounces free from his jeans and boxer shorts.
My hands go to his shaft before they both go down his length at the same time, my eyes up to his.
He tilts his hips. I open my mouth.
The tip of his tongue starts sweeping his full bottom lip.
He rolls the smooth flash beneath his teeth as I bring my head to him.
“Slowly...” he says again.
His body tenses, his cock throbbing against my lips as I close my mouth against his crown.
“Fuck, yeah...” he says, a strained breath rolling out of his lungs, telling me how much effort it takes to hold himself back.
I move my head and pull him in, unable to remove my eyes from his. Pleasure floods his gaze, his skin flushed.
Slowly, he moves his hips, watching his hard flesh meeting the softness of my lips and mouth.
I pull him out before I run my hand down, press my tongue at the root of his erection, and give him a long slow lap.
His hips begin to shake.
“Do it again,” he says with a low, raspy voice as he cups the back of my head, and gives me a sense of his restrained touch.
For a moment, he tips his gaze up and closes his eyes.
His body tenses.
“Open your mouth...”
He no longer smiles as he shifts his gaze back at me.
His veins plump with blood and pulse beneath my touch.
I part my lips. He enters my mouth, sliding his hard flesh against my
lips and tongue until it meets the back of my throat.
I close my mouth and suck on him as he slowly moves. Back and forth. Back and forth.
I suck harder. He moves faster, hitting the back of my throat repeatedly. I feel the taste of pre-cum on my tongue as the intensity of my strokes increases.
Just when I feel him edging, he pulls out and brings me up to him.
I crash into his arms as our mouths connect again, my hand wrapped firmly around his cock, his fingers sliding into me.
“Oh... The fucking... fuck...” I burst out, unable to control myself as he thrusts them deep into me.
They enter me coated in my wetness, rubbing my walls, making me shake and tremble.
“Don’t stop,” I growl with desperation, my hand locked around his hard shaft, my fist on his tip, rubbing his dripping, wet crown.
He strokes me faster, and it takes only a few moments before I come shaking and cursing and growling, crashing against his chest, stroking him as fast as I throb against his fingers.
A woman I had no idea I had in me arches her back and scrapes his neck with her nails as she enjoys the last spikes of her amazing orgasm.
Panting, I lean against his body, and only then I realize... His hot cum drips down on my hand.
To be continued.
Thank you for reading Tiago.
Night of the Kings Series includes 18 Books. All available in the store. Currently, the timeline of this saga spans across four stories, all taking place in the same world in the order in which they were written.
The Night of the Kings Saga continues with Tiago’s Secret (Night of the Kings 15).
TIAGO’S SECRET
Also by Shayne Ford
NIGHT OF THE DIAMONDS SERIES
A Billionaire Dark Romance
REMI (Night of the Diamonds #1)
DARK REMI (Night of the Kings #2)
LOVE IS WAR SERIES
A Billionaire Romantic Suspense
FALLEN (Love is War Series #1)
BROKEN (Love is War Series #2)
TAKEN (Love is War Series #3)
OWNED (Love is War Series #4)
NIGHT OF THE KINGS SERIES
A Billionaire Romance
JAMES (Night of the Kings Series #1)
DARK JAMES (Night of the Kings Series #2)
TAMING JAMES (Night of the Kings Series #3)