Still pretending I wasn’t doing anything at all.
“You always this sensitive, or is it just me?” I asked, voice rough now. Lower. “You gonna fall apart if I keep touching you like this?”
She nodded against me, mouth open like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out but a shuddering breath.
God, she was beautiful.
“We’ll see about that,” I whispered, tugging the cup of her bra down. My fingers found her nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger. She whimpered, jaw hanging slack as her eyes threatened to roll back.
I moved slower, more deliberate. Just enough pressure to leave her breathless. Then Istopped. Again.
Her eyes flew open. “Ansel?—”
“I told you,” I murmured, brushing my nose against hers. “I want tosavorthis.”
She shoved my chest — weakly. More of a whimper than a protest. “You’re actually trying to kill me.”
“You’re alive,” I said. “Very alive.”
Her hands scrambled for purchase on my shirt again, like she couldn’t decide whether to pull me closer or shove me off. Her legs were tangled around mine, her breath all over the place. She waswildunder me, completely undone — and I hadn’t even taken off her shirt.
“You can’t keep doing this,” she breathed.
“I absolutely can.” I grinned. “And I will. Until you beg.”
“Iambegging.”
“Not good enough.”
I kissed her once — quick, hard — then drew back just far enough to look her in the eyes. My hand still resting where she wanted me most. Still not moving.
“Want to try again?” I asked.
Her lip trembled. Her thighs squeezed around me. But she didn’t speak.
I smiled. “Guess we’re still waiting.”
She whimpered again.
God, that sound. That broken, bitten-off, frustrated sound — like she was seconds away from losing it entirely — did things tome I wasn’t proud of. Or maybe I was. Because this? This was exactly what I wanted.
Her hips tilted up, desperate for friction. My hand stilled. I didn’t move. Didn’t give her the satisfaction. Just stared her down while she squirmed in my lap.
"Ansel," she hissed.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
"Do something.”
“I am doing something.” I flicked my thumb across her nipple again, and she arched into me once more. “I’m making you feel good.”
“You’re making me insane.”
“Same thing, isn’t it?” I leaned in, mouth to her ear. “You’re soaked through my boxers and I haven’t evenkissedyou properly. That’s not on me, baby — that’s you. That’s how bad you want it.”
She made this choked, breathless little growl and tried to grind against me again — but I caught her hips,pinnedher down.
“Ah-ah.” My voice was steady, cruel in its gentleness. “You don’t move unless I say.”
