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The muscles in my thighs burn from holding this position, but Ezra doesn’t care. He directs my hands to the mattress behind me, forcing my chest out, his knee shoving mine apart so that I’m fully exposed.
Still holding my head back, he runs his free hand from the base of my neck, down the center of my chest to my stomach, his voice rough as stone.
“Beautiful.”
And then his hand slides lower, his fingers running a soft, teasing trail over my panties, the silk soaked already for him.
A sound of gritty male approval rattles through his chest as a finger hooks the drenched silk to pull it up and tight against my pussy and clit, his head dipping down to suck the tight tip of my breast between cruel lips and sharp teeth.
I hiss at the sting of that bite, my hips rolling as he uses my panties to tease my clit, the friction not enough to get me off, but just enough to drive me crazy.
Releasing my hair, he locks his hand down on my hip to hold me in place, words whispered against my skin.
“Stay still.”
I do. Despite the way he bites the side of my breast, despite the shift of his large body as his teeth and tongue travel lower to lick and kiss, nip and mark my stomach.
It’s pure torture.
All he gives me where I need it most is the not-so-gentle tug of my panties, the friction pushing me closer to a place where I’ll explode into a million stars, all flickering and flashing as they write out his name before falling away into nothing.
Ezra’s head lifts again as he tastes and explores my skin, the rough stubble of his cheek a sensual scrape when his lips bite at the skin just below my jaw, his voice a deep whisper against my ear.
“Tell me to stop.”
He pulls my panties taut, and I gasp, my head falling back, my back arched forward, my eyes clenched shut, silently begging.
“I can’t,” I say, refusing what he wants.
It’s a soul-deep confession.
Because I can’t say no to him.
I can’t tell him to stop.
I can’t deny myself just this one moment, this one breath, this one touch that I’ve needed for far too long.
That’s the sad truth of this entire screwed-up situation.
I’mhis.
Since before I promised.
And even after I walked away.
His name is branded over every inch of flesh, burned into every muscle, carved into every bone of my body.
I’mhis.
But I had no choice than to pretend I wasn’t.
“I’ll still hate you after this.”
Tears sting my eyes as the silk of my panties is moved aside, the tips of his fingers sliding over flesh that’s overly sensitive.
“I know.”
Voice a rough growl, I can hear him fight.
