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He arches an eyebrow, "Something funny, Sunshine?"
I shake my head.
He reaches for his cock and pumps it once. I feel the tug all the way to my core. My toes curl. My mouth waters. Even from this distance, I can see the moisture glisten on the crown of that monster shaft.
He squeezes the base of his shaft and watches me, as if waiting to see what I’ll do next. When I don’t move, he drags his fingers up the length.
A moan bubbles up my throat. Shit, shit, shit, if I stay here, I am likely to fling myself at him again, this time, with the hope of riding his cock.
And yet I can’t drag my gaze off his crotch. Or how his biceps flex each time he swipes his fingers up his shaft. His balls seem to grow thicker, heavier, larger. His thigh muscles ripple.
"Sunshine," he says in a low voice, "either get in here and get me off, or leave."
"Wait, what?" I tip my chin up, "What do you mean, get you off? Don’t you want to—"
"Fuck you?"
I nod.
"Nah," his lips twist, "gonna wait until we’re married now, remember?"
"B…but…but…" I squeeze my thighs together. "I don’t wanna wait," I whine.
"I know," he chuckles, "that’s the general idea."
"So, you did all that earlier," I stab my thumb over my shoulder, "to—"
"To turn you on."
"But you won’t let me come."
"Nope," he makes a popping sound with his lips. Of course, my gaze darts to his mouth. His gorgeous mouth. His plush, puffy mouth, which he used to bring me to orgasm earlier.
"You got me off earlier. What’s changed now?"
"What’s changed is that I realized it’s only a few days until we are to get married and I think it’s important we spend that time apart."
"You do?" I pout.
He begins to pump himself harder, and I watch in fascination as his dick gets bigger. I swear, it gets thicker and longer and so hard that the head is almost purple. Moisture pools between my legs and I reach for the waistband of my skirt. I slide my fingers inside and toward my clit when.
"Stop," he orders, "you will not touch yourself."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me," his lips turn up in a wide smile, "you will not come until I give you permission!"
"What?" I laugh, "Who are you to command when I come?"
"Your soon-to-be husband," he says in a harsh voice. He pumps himself with such ferocity that his muscles bugle, his chest planes flex, and his entire body is wound so tightly, I am sure he’s going to come any moment. I need to leave; I do. I need to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret. I try to move, but my feet seem to be stuck to the floor. His gaze holds mine. The skin around his eyes crinkles, sweat beads his forehead, and his features contort as, with a grunt, he comes. My heart slams into my chest and my pussy clenches in on itself. Fuck, that was hot, so hot. When my foot hits the ground, I realize I have taken a step forward. That’s when one side of his lips kicks up.
Asshole. That entire performance was for my benefit. He wanted me to be turned on. He wanted me to see what I was missing. Jerk.Stronzo.
Xander would have never done this.He wouldn’t have treated me like I was a piece of merchandise, like his possession to do with whatever he wanted. He would have never been mean to me.
And he didn’t care enough about you to even try to kiss you.
It’s that thought that finally snaps me out of my sexual haze. I spin around and dart out of the room, up the corridor to my own suite. I don’t stop until I am in the bathroom and have thrown off my clothes and stepped under the shower. Oh hell, what am I going to do now? How am I going to survive until the wedding?
