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“Punish is a strong word, Jules.”
“What do you call it then?”
“A reminder that I’m the only man you should be kissing.”
“It was a mistake. It didn’t mean anything.”
“What I saw meant something.”
I swallow under his grip, lightheaded, breathless, and too hot. Everything from the waist down is on fire and begging for release. “Please. I’m so close. Don’t torture me.”
“A little delayed gratification never hurt anyone.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
He frames my face between his hands. “Because I can.” Then his mouth is on mine, tongue pushing between my lips, and the way he moans in the back of his throat shoots a tingle through my system. His kiss is harsh and demanding and hungry.
“Let me touch you,” I beg once we come up for air.
Holding me at the nape, he reaches for my bound hands and expertly works at the knots. Breath a heated blast against my skin, he stokes the inferno in my veins by dropping kisses down the slope of my shoulder.
“Cash,” I whisper with a shudder as he frees me from the binds. I plunge my fingers into his hair. “Please.”
“Say it again,” he whispers against my ear.
“Please.”
“No, say my name.”
“Cash.”
“Jesus,” he groans. “The way you say my name makes me harder than hell. The things I’m dying to do to you.” Using the perfect amount of pressure, he rubs my clit with purpose until an orgasm almost busts me wide open. But something holds me back.
Don’t come.
I don’t know why I’m not taking what I so desperately want. Maybe it’s the command in his words, or the desperate way he said them.
Like he needs me to pass this test.
“Tell me when to stop,” he demands, holding me in the storm of his gaze.
“I don’t want you to stop.” His fingers are slipping in and out at just the right pace, and I wonder how I’m going to find the strength to hold back.
“Are you getting close?”
“Yes.” My breath is a hot blast across his tempting lips, and I squeeze my eyes shut, concentrating on not going over the edge.
“Does your orgasm belong to me?”
“Only you.” It’s what he wants to hear, and it’s the absolute truth, because he’s mastering me with every stroke of his fingers. Desperate to block out the steady rhythm of his thumb against my clit, I squirm, but the pressure reaches zenith. “Stop!” I gasp. “Can’t hold back.”
“Fuck, Jules. Look at these flushed cheeks.” He cradles them between his hands and kisses me deep, infusing everything he’s feeling into the licks of his tongue against mine. We kiss for a lifetime.
We don’t kiss long enough.
Leaving me dizzy and disoriented, he steps back and zips up his pants, all the while pinning me to the wall with the liquid fire of his stare. “You don’t know how bad I want you right now.”
“Why are you holding back?”
