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She thought of making a joke, but she didn’t want to slow him down. He ran his hands over her, inspecting, claiming. He seemed to be cataloguing her reactions—what turned her on, where she was ticklish—and was using her weaknesses against her. Without meaning to, she arched her back and thrust her ass out at him.
“That’s a good girl.” His hands skimmed over her backside. “Put an ass like yours in a commercial, and they could sell a man anything.”
Apparently he’d sniffed too much glue as a child, but she wasn’t about to hold that against him.
He unhooked her bra and slid it down her arms, then laid it aside when she pulled her hands out of the straps. From behind, he let his hands glide upward until he had cupped her breasts. His lips grazed the side of her neck just as his fingers coaxed her nipples into points, and he groaned in her ear.
Her breath came in short staccato bursts, and for one embarrassing moment she thought she was going to come. Sure it had been a while, but her reactions to him were ridiculous. He handled her body as though he not only owned her, but thoroughly enjoyed owning her. Her body agreed wholeheartedly.
How was Ambrose single?
She widened her stance, hoping he’d take the bait. The way he toyed around the perimeters of her underwear, making the waist and leg bands the limits of where he’d let his fingers stray, was making her crazy.
“What’s wrong, Everly? You seem to be having a problem. Is there anything I can help with?” His fingers crept under her waistband but didn’t drift lower.
Abruptly, she stood on her toes, and his unsuspecting hand ended up halfway down her panties.
“Hey, are you trying to rush me?” Rather than pull his hand back, he slipped his hand between her legs and found her clit. She squealed and rose higher on her toes.
“I didn’t mean to . . . I . . .”
He tugged on it painfully.
“Oh fuck.”
“Should you rush me?”
“Fuck no, Sir. Please let go?” Everly’s body shuddered, wanting more, but she was afraid she’d scream.
The pressure eased, but he grabbed her by the pussy and forced her ass back against him.
He ground against her. “I want to play with you, but my cock is in a big rush to get inside you. Should I tell it to be patient?”
“No. It should be impatient. I’m feeling impatient, too, so get on with it.”
Ambrose moved away from her, shuffling the things on the coffee table, then he came back. She tried to look over her shoulder, but he smacked her ass.
“Eyes on the wall.” His voice was low. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.” He fiddled with her nipple and attached a clamp to it.
“Ow!” She tried to avoid him, but he got its twin on her other nipple without much work. The firm pressure sent pain through them and into her pussy. She hissed, but he tugged on the chain that connected the clamps as though her discomfort made things better for him.
Next, he shoved a small vibe into her panties, and nestled it against her clit.
“Don’t you dare fucking come.”
Shit. How was she going to manage that with the vibe there and his words echoing in her head?
He smacked her ass, where she was sure there were already handprints, and she could feel her brain melting and leaking out her ears. The vibe buzzed away, and she bit her lip, trying to distract herself from the fact that he was alternating between spanking her and jamming the vibe against her sensitive bud.
Her breathing was loud in her ears, and she trembled, trying hard to stay in control. “I’m going to come, Sir. I can’t stop.”
“If you come, I’m going to hurt you.”
“Bad?”
“Bad.”
Fuck, like that threat was going to help?
