Page 86 of The Toy Maker

Jason didn’t hesitate.

He grabbed my thighs, lifting me effortlessly, and slammed me against the wall. My legs wrapped around him on instinct.

“Is this what you want?” he crooned.

I nodded desperately before he finally gave my body what it had been aching for. I cried out, my nails dragging down his back as he filled me, stretching me open, owning me.

He sucked and bit at my chest, his teeth leaving a trail of marks, evidence that I was his, that he was mine.

I rubbed my clit against his body, chasing the pleasure building inside me, so close—so close.

Jason suddenly gripped my hips, stilling me.

His breath was rough, uneven. “You don’t come until I say.”

I laughed, delirious. “Wow you really don’t fight fair.”

“You should be grateful that I’m screwing you after the stunt you pulled,” Jason scolded.

I took my punishment, even as my body trembled, even as my muscles clenched, begging for release.

Jason groaned against my neck. His thrusts grew erratic, harder, deeper. And then he came inside me, spilling himself into my quivering pussy.

I whimpered as he pulled out, my body still aching for more.

Jason smirked at my wrecked expression, his fingers trailing lazily over my swollen clit. “Such a needy girl,” he drawled, the words like velvet on his tongue.

And the worst part?

I was.

THIRTY-ONE

After cleaningmyself up and changing back into my boring clothes, I eagerly stepped out of the dressing room, scanning the store for Jason. He was waiting just outside, leaning against a display case, his arms crossed lazily over his chest.

The moment his eyes landed on me, the corner of his mouth twitched, like he was fighting a smirk. My stomach flipped.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets, then immediately pulled them out. I must have struck a thousand poses in a pathetic attempt to look casual, but deep down, my heart was fluttering like an idiot.

Jason made me nervous.

He was too handsome for his own good, formyown good.

And worse, I had formed an attachment I wasn’t sure he returned.

Before I could spiral any further, Jason reached out, lifting his thumb to my mouth. “You have a little cu?—”

“Thank you,” I cut him off before he could finish and tried to hide so he couldn’t see me turning red. His gaze lingered, burning into me, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, I wondered if he could hear how fast my heart was beating.

Then a loud, obnoxious cough shattered the moment.

“Will you be paying with cash or credit?” I turned to see the cashier blatantly ignoring my existence, her wide, eager eyes locked on Jason.

I fought the urge to roll mine.

Jason, completely unfazed, pulled out his wallet. “Cash.”

The girl beamed, launching into a speech about some exclusive store card while twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.