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I moan.
I turn my head to watch.
He wets his middle finger and with his eyes locked on mine, he slides it into my desperate pussy.
A throaty groan escapes me.
He slides his finger in and out of me before retracting it all together.
“So fucking wet for me,” he says, examining his slick finger. “I gather you’ve never tasted yourself?”
I shake my head.
“Open wide for me.”
I do.
He sticks his finger into my mouth.
“Clean it up. And I want to hear it.”
Holy dirty.
With one hand on my ass, pinning me in place, his bulge rolling against my pussy, I lick his finger clean with a series of loud slurps.
That’s all it takes to push me off the cliff.
Taken by surprise, I squeeze my thighs together as the fizz of an orgasm makes me cry out.
Oh, dear sweet Lord!
“Did you just come?” Beckett asks. The warning in his voice makes me shiver all over again.
I don’t answer.
“Arianne, I asked you a question.”
“I… well… you…” Evidently, my MBA does nothing for my ability to string a cohesive sentence together.
“Try that again.”
“It was totally unexpected,” I tell him.
“Did I tell you to come?”
“I couldn’t help it.”
“Did I tell you to come?”
“No,” I say in a meek voice.
“You disobeyed me. Again.”
“You can’t hold it against me,” I say. “How do you expect me to keep it together when you keep doing these raunchy things to me?”
“I expect you to come when I tell you to come!”
“You’re such a hardball!”
