I inhaled on a tremble, licked my lips, and rasped, “Stay.”
A beat of silence, the tension between us prickling to the point of pain. Then he smiled, a genuine, brilliantly seductive smile that warmed his eyes and made my stomach flip.
“Good.” How this one word, said in a timbre that hummed over every sensitive, touch-hungry part of my body, could encompass so much pleasure was beyond me. And yet it plucked a chord inside me, made me melt a little more in his grasp.
I stared at him, expectantly, anticipating, every nerve ending tuned in to his presence. My clit still craved pressure, craved touch, wanted what he could give me. What he’d promised.
He remained unmoving, just held my gaze as surely as he held my wrists pinned over my head. Waiting, I realized.
I huffed out a breath. “You’re really gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”
A sly smile was his answer, followed by the slightest brush of his energy over my breasts. I shivered, shifted, trying to chase that touch. In vain, of course, as it was as tangible as breath.
“Unfair,” I muttered. My chest heaved as I inhaled and gave him what he was waiting for. “Make me come.”
He raised a brow.
“Please,” I added with a smile that bordered on a fierce declaration of war.
Amusement danced in his eyes. “You make an art form out of spiteful surrender.”
“You seem to enjoy it.”
His lips twitched upward. “Fingers,” he asked, “mouth, or cock?”
My toes curled, and I pressed my thighs together against the flare of lust shooting straight down to my core. “All of it,” I whispered. “In that order.”
His soft laugh was at odds with the feral look on his face. “Greedy, much?”
“Don’t tell me you’re not up for it.” I should really stop poking at him. I would.
Soon. Ish.
“Hm.” One corner of his mouth lifted, his eyes flashing.
Wait, I knew that look. He was up to someth—
He’d flipped me over before I could so much as squeak. My over-sensitive nipples met the mattress, my throbbing mound brushed the sheets, and I bit back a moan as I turned my head, my hair half-obscuring my sight.
Still holding my wrists with one hand, he pressed me into the bed with the full length of his body at my back, stretching out on top of me. The fact I could still breathe spoke to him balancing part of his weight somewhere else. If he truly, fully lay on top of me, I’d be a breathless pancake on the bed, I was sure.
“Does this feel,” he murmured into my ear, “like I’m not up to it?”
And to make his point indisputably clear, he pushed his hips down, shoving the part of him that was most obviously up for it against my ass.
My breath hitched, and fresh desire pooled between my legs. Made me push back against the hardness of his cock, even though he was still in those damn pants.
“Why,” I panted, “are you still dressed?”
A heavy pause, as if he was contemplating the very same question.
“Patience,” he said at last, and the word rang with enough sensual menace that I whimpered.
“That’s a virtue,” I pointed out, as he stroked one hand down my side, skimming the curve of my breast and leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You’re a demon.”
“Astutely observed.”
“You have no business being virtuous,” I snapped.
He bit my neck. Pleasure shot like lightning down my spine. My back arched, my hips angling back. I pushed against him, desperate for more pressure, more touch…for him to finally penetrate me, whether by finger, tongue, or cock. I didn’t care. I just needed to feel him inside me. Some part of him.
“Please,” I groaned, way past caring that my begging had turned real.
He hummed against my neck in response, a sound so smugly satisfied, so full of masculine arrogance that it would have raised my hackles...had he not licked and suckled on the exact spot where he bit me, sending more torturous pleasure coursing through my veins.
His hand stroking down my side slid under me, wedged between the mattress and my abdomen...lower.
I trembled, my stomach muscles tightening.
His fingers grazed the top of my mound, ran through the trimmed hair...skimmed around my swollen clit.
A sound that was half gasp, half moan escaped me.
He hissed as he touched my labia, slick with my arousal. “So wet.”
My answer was another moan as I arched into his hand. Yes. Yes, please. More.
He pushed two fingers inside me, pumped deep while he pressed