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The look he gave me might as well have melted the panties straight off me, but since it didn’t, he removed them for me. He paused again and my patience was gone. My thighs fell open as I snatched up his hand, settling it exactly where I craved his touch.
My back arched until I was almost sitting upright when his fingers glided through the slick folds, swirling over my clit.
I dragged the pillow over my face to muffle my sounds, but he snatched it away.
“No hiding. I want to hear every little noise you can make.” He moved bit by bit over my core, teasing and stroking. Then he lifted his shining fingers up for me to see. “You’re so wet for me.”
I shuddered and rolled my hips to encourage those fingers back into place.
Finally cooperative, he stretched out next to me and settled his hand between my thighs. One vexatious finger slid inside me, and I clapped both hands down over his. He froze and raised a questioning eyebrow.
I pressed against him, demanding the movement continue. “Don’t stop. It’s just a lot.”
“A lot how? Because you’re going to have plenty more in there than a single finger soon.”
“No one’s been in there except for me.” I drew in a shaking breath. “I’m adjusting.”
He resumed, pumping the digit in a fluid motion until a groan leapt from my mouth. He teased me relentlessly before adding a second finger, moving to the exact pace I set until I was light-headed from breathing so hard. I lost track of how long we lay like that, each thrust of his fingers sending tremors through me.
“More.”
He paused, rolling another finger in the slick. My eyes lost focus as he added it, my mouth falling open to pull in more air.
“More.” I’d been teetering on the edge for too long.
“Be specific,” he chided.
I shook my head.
He sighed and withdrew his fingers, his lips turned down.
“Nooo,” I whined.
“You know the rule.”
“I just want to come.”
“Good girl.” He shifted over to lie between my legs and slid those wicked fingers back where they belonged, adding his mouth, his tongue flicking over my clit.
“Motherfucking hell.” I gasped and buried my hands in his hair, pressing my hips up against him.
The intensity of the combination was like fireworks and my volume pitched, incoherent syllables dancing past my lips to the pulse of his tongue. I was impossibly wound up, and he undid me in mere seconds. I came with a cry, shaking and desperate, but he stayed unrelenting, driving me straight through one orgasm into the next. He had mercy on me after a few and finally pulled away, settling to watch me as twitches and shivers skittered through my body.
“Take off your tank top when you’re ready.”
My brain vaguely understood the instruction, but I was languid and satisfied and in no great hurry to move. Until he slid off the bed and pulled off his T-shirt.
“Jesus Christ. You’re a puppy rescuer, sex god, and a fucking model.”
He laughed. “You’re so good for my ego. No modeling, though. I have to be in good shape to keep up with the omegas. Likely by this time tomorrow you’ll be putting these muscles to very good use.”
I whimpered again.
“Tank top,” he reminded me as he unzipped his jeans and let them drop.
Lust rippled through me at the sight and I yanked off the shirt bunched above my breasts. I tossed it to the side with an eagerness that had his smirk rising again. But then he slid off his underwear and my eyes widened.
“Are you kidding me? There’s no way that’s going to fit.”
