What Blake Carrington wanted, he took. It was how he did business, and how he lived. Once the door had been opened between him and Devon, the one that led to this forbidden but exceptionally exciting relationship, he did the same with her, at least to an extent. At the moment, for example, what he wanted was to wring every last drop of pleasure out of the girl's body, to make her come hard enough to see stars.

And so he lapped at her, used lips and teeth and tongue with the kind of devastating effect only experience and skill could elicit. His eyes flicked upwards, watching the heave of her short, panting breaths and how they moved her breasts, sometimes catching her eyes as he pushed her harder and faster towards the edge.

If he could have, Blake would have laughed at the girlish pleading for more. Devon had always been a demanding sort of girl, and in this she was no different, and her Daddy was no different in being willing to spoil her rotten. In this case, it mean sliding one hand along her luscious thigh to position his hand perfectly so he could slip a pair of fingers into Devon's entrance.