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My eyes flick up, capturing her gaze as she pants and writhes above me.
Still, it’s not enough.
A third finger joins the two already coated in her juices, stretching the silken walls of her cunt and coaxing her toward climax.
The sounds she’s making are incoherent and unrestrained and a balm to my fucking soul, even as it turns me inside out.
On a growl, I drag my mouth from her fluttering pussy, instantly missing her heady taste. “Not yet,” I warn, twisting my fingers inside of her. “Don’t come until I say.”
This is it, the moment her boundaries are tested. The moment she truly lets herself fucking go.
Her fingers turn claw-like, breath becomes ragged, and the furrow of her brow deepens. But she keeps her eyes on me.
And she doesn’t come.
My tongue shoots out, flicking a relentless pattern over her clit as I continue fucking her with my fingers, coating my hand, her thighs, and my chin with her slickness.
My cock throbs, and it’s all I can do not to pull it out of my jeans and slam home inside of her…but that’s not what this is about.
This is only about control. And the brilliant, delightful edge of pain that goes with it. The goddamn thrill of getting her off. Of winning her over to my dominance.
Lacy’s legs are shaking now, her body straining under the pressure of her impending orgasm. “Ridge.” My name is a plea—a sweet, sweet fucking song of need.
I pull my mouth from her honey, roughly demanding, “Now.” And smack her ass again. Hard.
My hand comes away stinging, but it’s worth it to feel the pulse of her orgasm around my fingers as waves of pressure are released.
She lets out a choked scream, overcome by the sensation, and I push back my own pleasure—my own throbbing fucking need—to watch her fall apart.
Finally, I remove my hand from between her legs and massage deep circles over her behind and thighs as she sags into me, coming down from her glorious high.
“Good fucking girl,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around her waist and kissing a soft line up her abdomen. “Always so compliant.”
She stiffens again, but this time I sense there’s no pleasure involved. This is one boundary she’s not willing to cross—at least, not without another orgasm involved.
Not wanting to pull her out of her place of easy bliss, I nuzzle her stomach and soothe her bottom with the gentle glide of my palms. “You’re the strongest, sexiest woman I know. And if I hadn’t already promised you dinner, I’d be pushing to see how long I can keep you from coming on my cock.”
Abruptly, I stand, pulling her panties and leggings up along with me.
She smirks, adjusting the band of her pants. “I don’t remember you promising me anything. Especially not dinner, and food is one thing I never forget these days.”
“I figured it was implied.”
“How so?” she says through a light laugh, and I smile with her, thankful she’s no longer threatening to retreat.
“Well, if I get to eat, then so do you.” I wink, capturing her hand in mine before she can smack me with it, and stoop to grab her purse from the floor. “And I’m guessing it’s a no on this place?”
Her shoulders rise and fall on a heavy sigh, and she scans the barren-looking bungalow, the worn wood floor letting out a loud creak as she steps to look behind her.
“It’s a nice house.” Her expression turns wistful, and I wonder what the hell is going through the maze of her complex mind. I wish she’d just tell me, already.
“But it’s not the right one?”
With a tug of my hand, she turns toward the door, persuading me to follow. “No, I don’t think it is.”
None of the places we’ve looked at have been good enough, and it’s no wonder. I take a final look at the boring beige walls, the cheap, plastic blinds, and bare bulbs affixed to the ceiling. All the same basic, boring features as the other rentals we’ve seen.
If our search is only going to produce more of the same, it’s time to switch tactics.
