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She sank further, taking me in inch by inch, until my cock was buried deep. Then, vixen that she was, she started moving without being told. She didn’t rise up and down. Didn’t bounce. No, she rocked her hips, grinding down on me in a way that felt too good to stop.

My fingers dug into her flesh, pushing her down as I tilted my hips up, giving her the full length of me to grind along.

“Fuck. Me,” she groaned. “I’m going to—”

I yanked her up and off me, my cock slipping free and slapping against my stomach as water sloshed all over the floor.

“What the fuck?” She damned near shouted the question between ragged breaths.

“Not yet,” I managed to bite out.

I hadn’t meant to let her get that close. I’d gotten carried away with how incredible she felt, and I’d let my focus drift.

She wrenched away from me, twisting and rising until she was sitting on the edge of the tub. Frustration creased her fine brow. “What do you mean, not yet?”

“I mean, I’m not ready to let you come yet,” I said, throwing as much dominance into the statement as I thought was safe, given her rebellious side.

She shook her head and swung her legs out of the tub. “Then I’ll do it myself.” She stood, yanked a towel off the knob beside the tub, and wrapped it around herself.

Her shiny new defensive wall came down a crack, and her defiance hit me. Defiance and mischief. She was frustrated all right, but she was also challenging me.

“Don’t you dare,” I said, dragging myself out of the water.

She was already out the door and halfway across the room when she shot a heated look over her shoulder. “Then come and stop me.”

With that, she flung herself onto the bed, letting her towel fall away.

I didn’t bother with my own towel before I charged after her. By the time I reached the bed, leaving a trail of wet footprints beside hers, her hand was already between her thighs. Her index and middle fingers moved in slow, teasing circles.

The scene brought me back to the night I’d witnessed her like this, back when she’d come to my world for the first time. I could have stood there and watched her pleasure herself for hours, but she’d thrown out a challenge I couldn’t let slide.

Also, after edging her twice, I wanted to be buried in that hot little pussy when she came.

I climbed on the bed, shoving her knees apart as I worked my way up. Grabbing her hand roughly by the wrist, I yanked it away from my prize. With my other hand, I cupped her wet pussy. “This is mine.”

She rubbed her lips together and narrowed her eyes.

“Say it,” I ordered.

She shook her head.

This woman. I pressed her hand to the mattress. “Don’t move.” Then I ran my palm down her sides and over her stomach. I spread her legs further apart. “Say it, Never.”

Again, she shook her head.

“Last chance,” I warned. When she didn’t open her mouth, I gave her sweet spot a firm smack.

She yelped and jerked, but from the way she was fisting the covers, she didn’t hate the sensation.

“Mine,” I said again, driving two fingers into her.

Her inner walls fluttered in the best way. I could have come just from watching her, feeling the way her hips moved, trying to ride my hand.

“Ah, ah,” I said, withdrawing my fingers. “Not until I say.”

She thumped her head against the mattress with a groan that had my already hard cock throbbing painfully.

Who was I kidding here? Edging her was a twisted kind of pleasure, but we were both wound dangerously tight.

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