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“I,” I panted, feeling the spring coiled tight and about to release. I let out a garbled, wordless sound.
Amos stopped sucking, but his thumb pressed on my clit as his fingers worked me from the inside. “Use your words, June,” Amos said.
“Please,” I panted.
“Please, what?”
“I want to come. Please.”
He stopped. Suddenly and devastatingly, he stopped. I gasped, my whole body shaking as my orgasm slipped away from me just as quickly as it had climbed. “What?” I panted, lifting my head to look at him in confusion. “What?”
Amos wiped a hand over his mouth, and then his fingers stroked the insides of my thighs with excruciating softness. “That’s one.”
“Onewhat?” I screeched, starting to bring my leg off his shoulder so I could… what? Push him away? Kick him until he gave me the orgasm back?Fuck.
He tilted his head, regarding me as he put my leg back in place. “I thought you liked dark chocolate, June. It’s edging.”
“Wha—” my brain felt sluggish. It reeled with confusion. “The fuck is that?”
He kissed the inside of my thigh. “I’m surprised you don’t know. It’s pretty tame, as far as the darker side of ‘dessert’ goes. I get to choose how many times I bring you to the brink. And you get to come when I say you can.”
I choked. “For how long?”
Amos stood from his stool, his hands pressing onto my wrists again, and he leaned between my legs until his lips hovered over mine. With his voice low and rich like bitter chocolate, he said, “I don’t know. How long were you going to wait before you told me you were a virgin?”
Another inarticulate word escaped me. His eyebrows twitched up a fraction. “Oh no,” I whispered.
Amos placed a gentle kiss on my lips. “Welcome to the dark side, Cupcake. You know the word to make it stop.”
“Stop?” I asked, two octaves too high. “Stop like… like you’ll help me finish?”
He shook his head.
“Fuck,” I hissed, and let my head slam back onto the table.
“Only good girls get to come, June,” he said, lowering himself back to his stool. “If you’re a good girl, you’ll get what you want.”
I made a sound like a metal chair screeching over tile. “Fuck you, Brady. I’m not saying it.”
“Good girl,” he murmured. His fingers started at the beginning again. “You count the next one. Out loud.”
I was already lost in the sensation of his fingers. Then his tongue. Then he was inside of me with two fingers, filling me with punishing strokes, and he sucked my clit so hard, I thought I saw stars. That scary feeling happened again. I’d become used to keeping my body slack, but that inexorable tug pulsed and clenched, sending me straight to a cliff that made me think I’d been jumping into kiddie pools my whole life.
My breath stalled in my lungs, and I briefly considered cheating and not telling him I was close. I considered lying and letting myself give in to the orgasm. And then it hit me. Balanced at the very top of my precipice, the question to accompany his lesson slammed into my brain.
How important is honesty? How can we trust each other without it?
“Stop,” I choked. Amos stopped. I wanted to cry, but I forced out, “Two.”
Amos dropped a kiss on the sensitive flesh near the apex of my thighs. “Good girl. Keep going.”
I hit my fist against the table, but I didn’t stop him. He didn’t mess around with getting me back to the top, this time. Two of his fingers pistoned in and out of me so fast, he catapulted me straight to my orgasm. “Stop,” I screeched. He did, and I swallowed hard as the release waned. “Three,” I whimpered.
Amos went slower the next time, circling my clit with a thumb before he hooked his fingers inside of me and dragged them across my G-spot. That was torture. Pure torture, because I didn’t get there as fast, but it was deliriously good. He moved his fingers fast again, pressing my clit. “Agh,” I garbled. He stopped again, and I covered my eyes. “Four. Please, Amos, I can’t. I can’t anymore.”
He kissed my thighs again, lifting my dress to drop nips and kisses along my heaving stomach. “You win,” he murmured. “Good girl, June. You win.”
“God,” I begged. I wasn’t sure how he understood that it was a plea, but he did.
