I slid my hand across the curve of her jaw, then cupped her head. “Bridget, look at me.”
She opened her eyes. “Nathan.”
“Yes. Tell me what you need.”
She whined again; in frustration or pain, I wasn’t sure. “You, Alpha. I needyou.”
What kind of man would I be to take advantage of her when she was so clearly not herself? The kind that deserved to be thrown from the top of a building. “You know I can’t do that, Bridget. Not like this.”
She sobbed, her eyes closing again. “But it hurts.”
My heart broke, but my resolve stayed intact. “I will help you,” I murmured, wiping away her tears. “But you’re going to touch yourself, princess.”
Bridget’s breath caught. The pet name had slipped out, but she didn’t seem offended. Quite the opposite, actually. I inhaled sharply and backed away until there was a space between us again.
I wouldn’t touch her. That would be my hard line. But my instincts told me this would work.
“Take off your shirt,” I said, leaning on my elbow to watch.
Bridget didn’t hesitate or look away from me. She sat up and pulled off the oversized university t-shirt and sports bra she’d been wearing, then tossed them away.
The first test of my honor. Her small, pink-tipped breasts were drawn into points that begged to be tasted. My cock, already hard, flexed slightly. She was as gorgeous as I’d always imagined, slim but still soft.
Even if I couldn’t touch her, I would look.
Bridget was panting, and as I watched, her skin flushed a deeper pink.
“How sensitive are your breasts?” I asked. “Touch them.”
Her hands drifted up her ribcage to grasp them softly. She brushed her hands across her nipples with a small gasp.
“Harder. Pinch them,” I said.
She obeyed with a moan that tightened my cock even more. She pinched them, pulling them until they were as deeply pink as her swollen lips.
“Do you like that?” I asked.
“Yes, Alpha,” she breathed.
Fuck. I refocused before I lost control.
“Take those off,” I said, gesturing to her leggings. “But leave your panties on.”
Bridget lay down to remove them, then stayed there, still panting, with her knees bent, looking at me.
I’d thought she was gorgeous before, but the sight of her in nothing but a pair of pale pink cotton underwear made my head light. Was I breathing? Her long, slim legs begged to be traced by my hands.
“Open your legs. Let me see how wet you are.”
Her knees fell open, exposing the soaked fabric that had turned translucent enough for me to see the dark outline of her slit.
“Oh, princess,” I growled, and a trickle of slick escaped from the hem. “You’re so wet for me.”
“Yes,” Bridget said, biting her lip with another whine.
My heart was pounding, and I was harder than I’d ever been. “Slip your hand inside and touch your clit.”
Watching her hand slide under the waistband of her panties, then move under the fabric was the most erotic moment of my life.
