Page 55

Every nerve ending in my body stands at attention, waiting.
Is he going to kiss me? Part of me, a big part, wants him to. “No kissing, remember?”
“Oh, I can think of other ways to keep my mouth busy.”
My core clenches, practically screaming yes.
His hands glide higher, pushing my dress up further. “Tell me what you want.”
“I thought you were going to show me.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“Brandon—”
“Say it.” His fingers skim short of where I want them. Need them. “Or I stop right now.”
My eyelids snap shut, blocking out everything but him. “Touch me.”
“Do you trust me?”
Do I? I trust Brandon, the one with the easy smiles and terrible puns, but this new version? Fuck if I know. But I nod anyway.
“Good.” He pulls back, and I exhale. “Because I’m going to make you come right here, right now, and you’re not going to make a sound. Clear?”
“You’re awfully confident.”
His fingers trace the edge of my thong again, teasing but not quite delving beneath. “Hmm.”
How did it get so hot in here? I shift, the marble counter cold against my skin, but his touch burns like fire, sparking something deep inside me.
He brushes against my clit through the fabric, making me jump. “Are we clear, Naomi?”
I grip the counter harder. “Clear.”
“Good girl.”
His approval does things it shouldn’t do.
“Don’t—” I catch myself as his thumb continues the torture. “Don’t call me that.”
“No?” His eyes lock with mine, dark and hungry. “What should I call you then?”
I open my mouth to answer, but his fingers press harder, and whatever I was going to say dissolves into a gasp.
“Shh.” His free hand settles at my throat, light but unmistakable, daring me to react. A warning. A promise. “Remember the rules.”
I want to tell him to fuck off, to stop being so smug, but then his other hand slips under the lace and—fuck.
I’m helpless. No control.
“Still want me to stop calling you a good girl?” His fingers move slowly, too slowly. Teasing.
I shake my head, not trusting my voice or trying to follow his command. I’m not sure.
“What was that?” He curls his fingers just so, and I choke down another gasp. “I didn’t quite catch your answer.”
“I hate you,” I breathe.