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“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Playing fair.” He slowly worked his fingers in and out. “You’re the one who started this with finger foods.”
He thrust deep again, and she groaned. He might not be able to take her with his cock, or his mouth, but he’d take her with his hand.
She arched, and some strawberries fell away from her breasts, leaving sugar-coated ruby tipped nipples straining for the ceiling. She was his personal dessert, and he wanted to eat every inch. But he couldn’t. Not without breaking his own rules.
“Please take me, Gage,” she pleaded softly.
Truth was, he had a hard time denying her—he wanted nothing more than to give her exactly what she wanted. But he had to keep his focus. He was playing the long game.
“I’ll give you what you need.” He pressed his thumb against her sensitive bundle of nerves. “If you give me what I want.”
Her head lolled back and forth on the table. She was either shaking her head or delirious with pleasure. He hoped the latter.
“Come on, sweetheart. We both know you want to…” He plucked another peach slice with his mouth, careful not to lick her this time. The effort damn near killed him.
“Mouth,” she begged.
He rubbed his thumb against her sweet spot faster. “Can’t,” he rasped. “The exchange is fingers for fingers, not oral for oral.”
“Okay!” she moaned. “Deal. Oral for oral.”
He slowed his pace enough to keep her on the brink of coming while he negotiated his terms.
“Oral romance for oral sex? Tell me how you plan to accomplish that, sweetheart.”
“I can say sweet things to you if you stop talking and use your mouth to do dirty things to me.”
He chuckled. She was fiery and begging and damn it, he wanted to agree. It’d stay within the rules…
“I’m waiting for my romance then. I’m ready to hear you whisper sweet nothings to me.” He surged two fingers in deep, and she gasped. “And you better mean them.”
“Oh yes, please Gage.”
“Mmm, I love it when you see it my way.” He pulled up a chair and sat at the end of the table. He tugged her toward him until her ass hung off the edge, tossed her legs over
his shoulders, brought her as close as possible, and blew against her hotness. She moaned, and her thighs tensed by his ears.
“Comp-compromise,” she stuttered out. “I’ll give you your sweet nothings, but I have one demand.”
He laughed and blew again against her heated flesh. “Of course you do. Especially since you’re the one at my mercy. By all means, make your demands.”
She lifted herself up on her hands, and the bits of fruit left on her slid down her sides and slapped against the table. “I want to make you come. It’s been so long. Please.”
That was the nail in his coffin. This sexy mastermind of a woman wanted to make him come? That was her demand? He’d be lying if he wasn’t hell of fucking interested.
“Quickie for a quickie?” he asked.
She grinned and nodded. “Doesn’t break either of our standpoints, and we both get a little something to tide us over. What do you say, city boy?”
He was ready to say fuck it, climb up on the table, and remind her who worked her body to the point of sweaty bliss. Instead, he’d stick to his rules and the one card he had to play: her body. He still had sex in his arsenal, and he wouldn’t trade it until all his demands were met.
“Let me think for a second.” He bit the inside of her thigh. “I’m still waiting for my sweet nothings.”
“You bastard.” She groaned.
“Hmmm…” He ran his nose up her thigh. “I think you’re confused on what sweet words entail.”
