Page 16 of I Could Be Yours (The Toronto Terror #6)

I can touch his dick and not envision walking down the aisle with him. Hell, we made out over a week ago and at no point have I moved him into my apartment. Not even in a dream. I can get mine and not become emotionally attached.

I slide my hand into the front of his boxers and grip his exceptionally generous erection. I shut down any thoughts about it probably being a pretty boyfriend dick. Nate is the opposite of boyfriend material, but he’s excellent fuck-buddy fodder. He groans and squeezes my breast.

But then he wrenches his mouth from mine and pulls back.

For a second I think he’s about to tell me it’s a bad idea. Which honestly, it really is, even if neither of us is willing to voice that, again .

Instead, he pushes his shorts and boxers down, revealing his big, beautiful cock in my fist. I stroke the length, rubbing my thumb over the weeping tip. I’m so glad I took Rix out for a mani a few days ago.

“Fuck yes, that’s…” He drops his head and turns his face toward my neck, lips parting against the skin. His tongue sweeps out, followed by his teeth. “So fucking good, Ess.”

“How long do you think you’ll last before you come all over my hand?” I taunt.

He lifts his head again, desire-heavy eyes meeting mine as his other hand skims my ribs and travels along the waistband of my shorts. “I bet I can get you off first.”

Of course he’d turn it into a competition. “I’d love to see you try.”

His long, thick fingers slip beneath the waistband of my shorts and into my panties. They glide over smooth skin and dip between my thighs. His brow furrows as he skims my clit.

Anxiety skitters across my skin like biting ants. I wait for the judgment.

“Are you…? Is that…” He brushes over it again. “Do you have a hood piercing?”

“Yeah.”

He skims it again, sending another jolt of desire echoing through me.

“Didn’t it hurt?”

He circles my clit, and my eyes roll up. “Less than you’d think, to be honest.”

“Did you get it to make sex feel better?” His curiosity is distracting, but also…endearing .

“I dated a tattoo artist for a couple of months. He did them all for free. We broke up before they healed fully.” Turns out mine wasn’t the only clit he was playing with.

“But you kept them.” He keeps circling my clit, light touches that make my entire body sing with need.

“They heighten the experience,” I explain.

“It’s sexy. I like it.”

His approval eases the tension slightly.

He moves past my clit and slides one finger inside me.

A sigh leaves my lips, and my head falls back.

It’s been months since anyone has touched me.

Months since I’ve had anything but self-administered orgasms. And I don’t understand the logic, or lack of it, but how satisfying is it that the man who ghosted me all those years ago can’t keep his hands off me now?

We find a rhythm, my hand moving over his length and his fingers pumping inside me, palm rubbing my clit, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

I try to hold back, to increase my pace and tighten my grip on his stunningly hard erection.

But his expression is one of sheer determination, and when he finds the spot that makes me gasp and moan, he doubles down.

“That’s it, Ess.” He kisses my neck. “I know you’re close.”

My legs shake, and everything below the waist tightens. I whimper and try to hold on to my control, but it’s slipping away.

“It’s okay. You can let go.” He cups my cheek in his palm as he strokes inside me again.

“You’re so soft.” His lips brush over mine.

“So fucking sweet and pretty.” He pushes deeper, stretching me, filling me, making my body come alive under his touch.

“I want to feel you come all over my fingers, Essie. Show me I affect you, too.”

I grip his shoulder and grind down into his palm. The world is a wash of stars and white as the orgasm rushes through me. It’s incredible, mind-blowingly fantastic. My body hums with pleasure. My eyes flutter open and meet Nate’s feral, satisfied gaze .

He won. Of course he won.

This round. But the game is far from over.

His admission gives me courage. This man, who is always stoic and in control, loses it with me.

I resume stroking him. “Imagine how good it would feel if you were fucking my mouth and not my hand, Nathan.” I suck his bottom lip. “My lips stretched around you.” I let the plush flesh slide through my teeth. “How much of your cock do you think I could take?”

Dark desire makes his lip curl. “You’d take all of it, because you wouldn’t want to lose again.”

A coy smile tips the corner of my mouth as I nibble across his jaw. “Did I really lose, Nate? Now you have the memory of me coming just for you, and it’ll be right there every time you think of me.”

“Just like you’ll think about me,” he counters.

“Imagine me on my knees for you, Nate.”

His gaze drops as I lace the fingers of my free hand with the one already stroking him.

“Shit. Fuck—” He groans.

“My mouth full of your thick cock.” I slide both thumbs up his shaft and circle the crown. “Your hands in my hair.” Slow stroke. “Guiding me.” Tight squeeze. “Your cum sliding down my throat, because I’d swallow for you, Nathan, like a good girl does.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ess.” His eyes roll up, and he slaps a palm against the wall as he pulses in my hands. It’s a powerful feeling, knowing I broke him, that his careful control snapped because of me. That he wants me, even though he shouldn’t.

“Your mouth is filthy.” He drops his head to my shoulder, following with a soft kiss.

“You didn’t seem to mind.”

“No. I really didn’t, did I?”

“Don’t you feel better?” I ask brightly .

He snorts a laugh and straightens. A rare, pretty smile curves one corner of his mouth. “Yeah. I feel better.”

“You made a big old mess, by the way.” There’s cum on my shirt, my hands, and the floor.

His cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink. “Let me get something to clean that up with.”

“I’ll get it.” I slip out from between him and the wall, needing to get away before any potential awkwardness has a chance to settle in.

I wash my hands, blot the residue on my shirt with a damp face cloth, and grab a few tissues to manage the mess on the floor.

But when I return, Nate has already handled it with paper towels from the kitchen.

He stands there, one hand tucked in his pocket. The other he runs through his hair.

And there’s the awkwardness I wanted to escape.

“So thanks for stopping by.” I head for the box on the counter. “And for dropping this off.” I pull a pair of scissors from the drawer and run them across the edge.

“What’s in there that was so important, anyway?”

I show him the contents.

“Are you fucking kidding me? This is what I wasted my entire night for?”

I pat him on the chest. “Did you not get an outstanding handy out of the deal?”

He side-eyes me but offers a grudging smile. “It was an excellent handy. And I did get to play with your clit ring, so I guess it was worth the trouble.”