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“I didn’t say stop,” he says.
“Oh.” I palm my breasts again, squeezing them together and watching his face so I can pay closer attention to what he likes.
He has both hands on my hips now, but his touch is light. I’m planted between his thighs while I play with my boobs. As he watches, his fingertips lightly skim my sides on their way up. He pushes one of my hands away, covering one with his much larger hand. He’s rougher with my nipple than I was, and before I can draw a breath, it’s erect, begging for his attention as his thumb passes over it roughly, back and forth, back and forth.
I can feel it everywhere. Roots of pleasure start at the peak of my breast where he’s toying with me, but travel down to my pussy, which is now throbbing shamelessly.
My eyes flutter closed as he pushes my other hand away and does the same thing with that breast. I try to keep my breathing shallow so he doesn’t realize how aroused my body is already, but it’s difficult.
“You don’t have to hide from me, Hallie.”
My eyes pop open. For a split second, I wonder if somehow my thoughts slipped out of my mouth, but no. There was silence in the room aside from the rustling of his clothing and the sounds of my uneven breathing.
Shifting my gaze from his face down to his thighs, I say, “I don’t know what you mean. I’m right here.”
His lips tug up faintly. “Such a pretty little liar.” With that, he squeezes my nipples so hard I cry out from the shocking bite of pain when everything he’d done prior had felt so good, then he releases them, and I think that disappoints my body most of all. Dropping the open palm of his hand against his thigh, he says, “Sit.”
My eyes widened and dart back to his face. “Sit?”
“On my lap,” he says patiently.
I thought he was going to spank me.
I don’t see how he’ll do that with my butt on his lap, but I decide not to question him. I don’t want to annoy him and end up strapped to that fucking machine.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Hallie
Calvin sits on the edge of the bed, waiting for me to do as he commanded.
My face heats as I gingerly lower myself onto his lap. I’ve never sat on a grown man’s lap before—not as an adult, anyway. My Santa Claus days are long behind me, and this is certainly not as innocent as that.
I feel awkward about my weight on his knee. Lap sitting isn’t for full-grown women, it’s for—
My thoughts are cut off abruptly when he slides his hand around my bare waist and pulls me closer. Heat from his body joins the rising heat in mine and I’m so warm, I’m almost relieved to be naked.
I sat tentatively with my butt on one thigh, but my feet still on the floor. He’s not content with that, and he drapes my legs over his so I’m completely off the floor, every bit of my weight supported by him.
I feel intensely vulnerable in this position.Achinglyvulnerable. I want to ask him to stop, but he’s not even doing anything. His hard, muscular body feels so reliable. His strong arm is wrapped around my back, supporting me.
“Kiss me,” he says, and I do. It feels perfectly natural in this position. I drape an arm around his neck so I can lean into him and close my eyes as his mouth effortlessly dominates mine. My pussy tingles even though he isn’t touching it and I can feel myself getting wet.
He only kisses me for a moment, then he breaks away, leaving my lips a little swollen and me feeling strangely bereft.
Something inside tells me to resist, that none of this is happening by accident, even though it feels that way to me. That he’s in complete control, and he knows the results he will get from every move he makes.
That should make me feel more guarded, but in some ways… it’s reassuring.
His tone is gentle, but firm. “Rub.”
I don’t have to ask where he wants me to rub him. I slide my hand down to cover the massive bulge in his black slacks. His eyes drift closed and his head falls back, but his firm grip on my body never eases.
“That’s enough.”
I stop, and he opens his eyes. I can feel his gaze searching mine. I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but I can feel how unguarded I am, how insistently some part of me is offering up every scrap of my soul she can hold in her hands for him to riffle through.
Some sick part buried deep inside of me wants to please him, and I don’t understand why.
