“Please,” he repeated after me again, still circling his finger with a gentle touch.
“Don’t,” I begged.
“Don’t,” he repeated and my eyes closed slowly.
God, was this happening to me? After all he’d done, was this really happening to me?
His finger asserted just a wee bit more pressure.
My head automatically fell back to his shoulder as a tiny spiral of pleasure unfurled in my belly.
Yep, this was happening to me.
I jerked my hands again, whispering, “I won’t.”
“I won’t,” he whispered back and his deep, rumbling whisper spiraled through me too.
His finger started circling faster, a little harder, a lot better.
God.
I turned my head, his lifted and I pressed my forehead into his neck and I fought against that spiral of pleasure that was unfurling. But I didn’t win. It unfurled, then it grew, then it spread.
“Lahn,” I breathed as the continued workings of his fingers forced the last bits of tension from my body.
“Lahn,” he murmured and circled faster.
Oh, that felt nice.
“Circe,” I whispered.
His hand at my wrists tightened, pulling them into me as his finger pressed deeper.
“Circe,” he whispered and my h*ps bucked.
Yes. I liked that.
“Circe,” I said again and he pressed his hardness into my back and circled even faster.
“Circe,” he repeated softly and I whimpered as that spiral in my belly whirled out-of-control.
“Yes,” I breathed.
I felt his lips a whisper from mine.
“Yes,” he muttered.
Oh God.
My h*ps moved with his hand, grinding down, seeking more from his finger and he didn’t keep it from me. He gave it to me and I took it, I reached for it, and it started coming.
My eyes flew open and when they did, his dark ones, not looking detached, not blank, not impassive, but heated and turned on and God, could it be? Totally freaking sexy.
His finger pressed deeper and circled faster.
Oh yes.
I gasped, “Lahn!”