That whimper again, but this time she pressed her bottom more firmly against his cock. He saw stars. “I could ask the same of you.”
“Sadie,” he groaned, the hand on her hip flexing, then holding tighter, stilling the motion of her hips. “I can’t—”
“This doesn’t have to mean anything,” she whispered, and his heart cracked. “We’re stuck here, and no one has to know.”
No one has to know. Quick, simple pleasure when nothing else is available. But he was too wild for her to question her motivation. She could use him for whatever she needed. “No one will know.” He thrust against her and she whimpered again.I’ll give you anything.“Do you need to come, Sadie?”
She nodded, and he pressed his nose to the hair at the nape of her neck, breathing deep, wanting to memorize every detail about this moment.
“Say it. I won’t touch you without your words.”
“You’re touching me now.” Her breathy voice was almost unrecognizable, and he realized how much of a gift she was giving him, allowing him to see her like this, on the verge of becoming undone.
“Accurate, as always, but is this how you want me to touch you?”
Her response escaped on a sigh. “No.”
He released her hip to take her hand, currently clutching the bedding, and slid his hand underneath. “Show me, sweetness.”
“Sweetness?” How she managed to be prickly while rubbing her ass against his cock was something remarkable. “There is nothing sweet about me.”
“You’re nothing but sweetness to me, Sadie. Now use my hand to make yourself come.”
For a woman who claimed to be sour, her moan was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. He barely believed his luck as he helped her pull up her chemise, and, after some awkward shuffling, removed her bloomers. When his fingers finally touched the heat between her thighs, he groaned. “So wet. Were you dreaming?”
Her fingertips pressed against his, leading him to her center, but he held back, stroking and gathering the moisture around her core before slicking it over her pearl. “Y-yes.”
He swallowed, his cock taking over and tossing logic overboard. “About me?”Dammit!
“Yes.”
His heart skittered, and he fought back a crow of glee. She was always chastising him to be more serious, and he would prove himself now. “Mmmm, so sweet,” he purred as he nibbled her earlobe. “What was I doing in your dream?”
She shuddered but said nothing, and he dipped a finger inside her, stroking slowly. Her interior walls quivered, and he grew impossibly harder at the thought of her cunt strangling his cock.
“Will you tell me?” He chuckled when she shook her head. “You might as well. We’ll need something to keep us entertained while we’re trapped in here.”
“This isn’t entertaining?” She’d removed her hand from his and now clutched his thigh, her short nails digging into his skin as he swirled and stroked over the hard bundle of nerves.
“Without a doubt, the best show I’ve ever seen in New York. Top notch. But I’m a curious man, and I want to know what I did to make you this wet for me.”
“Your head was between my legs.”
He stilled, the image so powerful he had to concentrate on not spending in his pants. He couldn’t afford to ruin another pair. “What was I doing?”
She hummed. “Kissing me. L-licking me.” He took up stroking again, rewarding her for her courage. “Fucking me with your tongue.”
“Jesus, sweetness,” he groaned. Washedreaming? Had he fallen on the ice and hit his head, and none of this was real? If he had, he’d better do this right, because he wouldn’t get another chance with her. He bent the arm below her so he could reach her breast and held her, plumping the flesh gently in his palm through her chemise. “When you talk like that—”
“Not like a lady.” There was a tremor in her voice, a beat of reluctance that he hated to hear.
“That’s not it.” He breathed in the scent of her arousal, heady and sweet and intoxicating. “I want to know what you want from me.” He swallowed hard, knowing he was pushing her, afraid she would close herself off again. “I like it when you tell me.”
A shiver ran through her and she bucked her hips. “I like—I like what you’re doing, but faster. A little softer.”
He adjusted accordingly while his other hand plucked her nipple, then found the other breast and gave it similar treatment. Pressing open-mouthed kisses between her shoulder blades, he followed her lead, moving his fingers faster as her breathing increased in pace.
Garrett wanted her to come for him more than anything else in the world. Perhaps that was hyperbole; assuredly the world would benefit from global peace, or at least suffrage for women. But nothing could be more important than bringing pleasure to this woman, to prove that she could trust him with this intimate part of her. That he was, at least in one way, worthy.
