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He groaned against her stomach as she scraped her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Now tell me what your nipples feel,” he said, watching the reaction on her face as he moved his fingers to the right, just a hair, and pressed in deeper into her dripping pussy.
“They—” she gasped a little as he moved his fingers up a tad, “they feel the heat in the air. They . . . they feel the roughness of your fingers, touching and pulling them. It feels good, this little bit of pain. Like an extra dash of horseradish with a bite of sushi. Painful pleasure.”
He grinned as her own fingers moved to circle lazily around her breasts, moving in closer and closer to her yearning nipples. He rutted his leaking cock against the mattress as she pinched the hard buds herself and sighed.
“Good, sweetness. Very good.” He picked up the pace of his finger on her clit and pressed in even deeper, as far as his fingers would allow. Her mouth fell open, and suddenly her hips bucked off the bed. He leaned his shoulder against her leg to hold her still and ruthlessly pressed his fingers inside her again. She screamed and pushed at his shoulder.
“Tell me what you feel,” he growled, knowing he’d found the spot.
“I can’t!”
“You can.”
“No! I—Julian!”
He pulsed gently against the spot.
“It’s too much,” she moaned, looking down at him between her legs and thrashing her head back. “I can feel everything. I can’t control it.”
He pulsed faster, both against her g-spot and her clit, and listened as her breath grew ragged. She tugged roughly at his hair and pounded her heels against the sheets, muttering, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
She was close. And she was fighting it. He could hear it, could feel it, could see and smell it. He was driving her closer and closer to the edge, further than any place she’d ever been before, but she refused to let herself come.
“Give it to me, princess. Let me have it, and let yourself have it. You deserve it, Skylar. You’re so fucking sexy. So fucking filthy. I fucking love it. Do you like knowing that even with all my experience, all the women I’ve had, not one of them has gotten me this hard? Not one of them has dripped for me the way you do. Sucked my fingers in as tightly. Moaned for me so greedily. Because that’s what you are, aren’t you?Greedy. You want it. You want my cock. You always want it. A good fucking. A—
A loud moan was wrenched from deep in her throat, and she rolled her hips, the movements like a desperate Hail Mary. Then she froze.
Literally froze.
Then she crab-legged herself away from underneath him only to lie so stiffly on her back that she resembled an ironing board. “You can fuck me now.”
What the fuck? Why was she looking at him that way? As if the desire had suddenly drained out of her? Did she not understand how close she was?
“Get back here,” he commanded. “You were there, sweetness. Right there.”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t,” she insisted, pushing herself up to a seated position, still panting, pupils still blown. “Just fuck me. Fuck me now, and you can come, and then I can leave.”
He stared at her in confusion and rising frustration. “Skylar, that’s not how this works.”
“It is. It has to be.”
“You’re wrong,” he said, impatience now edging his voice despite his best efforts. “You were about to come. Why did you stop me?” He pushed her hand away as she reached for his cock.
“Just fuck me, okay? Just do it. It’s your turn.”
“My turn for what?
“Pleasure. You haven’t gotten anything yet.”
He shook his head slowly. “Pleasing you pleases me.”
Skylar let out a laugh so bitter he winced. “Don’t fucking lie! You want what any other man wants. You want to get your rocks off. So do it!”
“Damn it,youare the one who brought us here.Youare the one who tried to make this only about sex between us.Youfucking asked for this!”
She flinched, and he immediately regretted his words. Damn it, that’s not how he’d meant it. He hated those fucking words, had heard them used as an excuse for sexual assault more times than he could count. Every time he’d heard those words come out of the mouth of a man accused of hurting a woman, he’d wanted to end him.
She asked for it. She had it coming. If she didn’t want it, she wouldn’t have dressed the way she had.
