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“I am not.” Her tone was defiant, but still, she panted.
“You are going to come,” he said, ignoring her. “If it takes all night, all day, and all the life from my body and the will from my soul, you are going to come.” He grinned when she quivered, the motion so strong the bed shook.
He climbed up onto the bed with her and ran his fingers up and down her inner thigh. She didn’t flinch away.
“It’s not going to happen,” she said, her voice quieter, sadder than before.
“Stop fighting it.”
“I’m not.”
“Then close your eyes and suffer what I’m going to do to you in silence. Because I’m not giving up, Skylar. I will come at you, again and again, wring you dry, make you beg, until your body has absolutely no other choice than to surrender and give me what is fucking mine.”
“Yours?”
“Mine. Since the instant I saw you. We can’t be together, not beyond the terms of your counterproposal. It’s not who I am, and I’m learning it’s not who you are, either. But that doesn’t diminish, in any way, that for now, you are mine. And that, in the time I have you, I’m going to give you what you need. And take what I need, too.”
* * *
Skylar watched Julian’s face,drinking in the look of possessiveness on his face that went hand-in-hand with the words he’d just uttered.
What was he saying?
What did he mean that she was his?
“Julian—”
“I told you to fucking close your eyes. Do it, Skylar.”
At his harsh command, she felt herself bristle. Then when he cocked a brow at her, she relented and closed her eyes.
25
Julian moved his hand between Skylar’s legs and settled in, caressing her already soaking-wet pussy. He coated his fingers with her cream before circling Skylar’s clit. Her stomach muscles clenched and quivered when he pressed in quick little motions, and he continued those movements as he nibbled gently on the skin just below her hip bone. She smelled musky, and like those wild roses he’d caught the scent of earlier in the evening when she’d come to him in the bar.
When small moans escaped her lips, he kept working her clit with one hand while inserting a finger into her pussy with the other. “Tell me what you feel,” he said as he curled a finger inside her, searching for that special spot deep inside her, the spot that would make her scream.
“I—I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. It’s just words.”
“I-I-I don’t know,” she breathed, rocking her hips a little as he quickened the pace of his finger on her clit.
Shoving a second finger deep inside her, he probed then pressed again, this time in a different spot. He kissed her hip bone. “Tell me, Skylar. What does your body feel?”
“I-I—” she gasped. “I don’t understand.”
“Shh.” He hushed her with more soothing kisses against her stomach and slowed his finger against her clit. She might not fully understand what was happening to her body, but her body understood how to let him know it felt pleasure. Her pussy walls tightened around his fingers as if her body was refusing to allow them to part.
Lightly, he pulsed his two fingers along the quivering walls of her vagina, still searching for that magic spot. “Don’t focus on your sweet pussy,” he said calmly and softly. “Instead, tell me what your fingers feel.”
Her breath shuddered, but she wet her lips and sighed, stretching her arms out at her side. “I feel cool silk,” she whispered.
“Good. Move your arms. Tell me now what you feel.”
She brushed her fingertips gently against the sheets. Her hand skimmed across his arm, and she froze. He could feel with his mouth against her hip that she was holding her breath. He circled her clit with a finger and waited patiently.
“I feel your skin.” Her fingers explored his arm, tracing the skin up to his shoulder. “Soft, warm. I feel your neck,” she whispered. “Your hair. Silky but different than the silk of the sheets. More . . . raw.”
