Page 43

His hand slipped into the waistband of my shorts, rubbing me over my panties. I gasped into his mouth, a strange combination between a moan and a sob. I wanted—no, Ineeded—him to touch me.

“Please,” I whispered, kissing the side of his mouth. I planted tantalizingly light kisses across his smooth jaw and down to his neck. There, I sucked deeply on his skin, relishing in his intake of breath.

The horny bitch within me wanted to mark him as mine.

“Please what, little gymnast?” he asked breathlessly.

“Touch me,” I practically begged. Without another word, he pulled my underwear away from my aching core and stabbed a finger inside of me. He began to rub his finger up and down my slit. I pulled my lips away from his neck with a gasp, but he captured them once more with his own. Eating away my moans. Devouring them.

A second finger followed the first one, followed by a third. His thumb found my clit, rubbing it in earnest.

“I’m so close,” I whispered.

“Come for me.”

His words were my undoing.

I didn’t just come. Iexploded.

He kissed me through my orgasm, fingers continuing their relentless pursuit. He was determined to unravel me. Destroy me.

And damn, if it wasn’t working.

Only when I was fully sated did he pull out. He brought his fingers to his lips, eyes intent on mine, before licking them clean. His tongue swirled over the tips, sucking them until the evidence of my arousal disappeared.

If that wasn’t the sexiest thing…

“You taste good,” he said with a casual shrug.

His erection strained against his sweatpants, begging to be set free.

With a coy smile, I patted the prominent bulge. He hissed, teeth clenching.

“You can take care of that yourself,” I said, shouldering past him. “And thanks for the orgasm!”

He stared at me, mouth agape, before he managed to stutter, “You don’t fuckingthanksomeone for an orgasm.”

In answer, I gifted him with my middle finger. I was confused, yes, as I tried to piece together what had happened. What he had told me. Nothing made sense. Not his words, not his actions, not my own traitorous heart. I needed a moment—or five-hundred—to get my bearings.

“Have fun sucking your own dick.”