to her breast I’m nearly cradling it. I fucking want to touch her. As if she can read my mind, she wriggles and arches, silently begging me to take her in hand.
I have to know just how aroused she is.
My thumb wanders and…yes. Her nipple is hard. When I strum it, her breath catches. She digs her nails into my shoulders. She rubs against me again like she needs me to cure her ache.
I can’t suppress my ruthless smile as I step away to sit on the edge of her bed. I have a vague impression of white linens and bright moonlight streaming in through a wall of windows around us before I pull her down to my lap. She falls back against my chest with a little squeak. Before she can recover or adjust, I’ve positioned her legs on either side of mine. I flare my knees out—and part her thighs wide. The only thing between my touch and her pussy is one little bitty skirt.
It’s toast.
I drop one hand to her knee…and start skimming my fingertips up the inside of her thigh so, so slowly.
She gasps and clutches my hand. “Trace.”
“Close your eyes. We’re back at the bar.” I shake her fingers off and gather her skirt in my hand as I creep up her leg. “The bartender wants to know if you want another merlot.”
“Um…”
“I’ll take another beer,” I say as I flatten my free hand against her chest, just above her breasts, plastering her back to me. Under my palm, her heart beats ferociously. My fingertips dip over her nipple again.
She’s even harder.
“Last call, honey,” I whisper in her ear. “Wine…or something harder?”
“Harder,” she breathes out.
“You got it. I’ll come up”—I press my aching cock into her wriggling ass—“with something you’ll like. Okay?”
She gives me a shaky nod. “Yes.”
“The crowd is thinning out, and the bartender isn’t looking at us now. I want something sweet.”
“What—”
I grip her head and turn her chin to me, sinking my lips onto hers at the same moment my fingers get impatient and zip up her inner thigh to settle on her pussy. Slick, swollen, open. Perfect.
I’ve died and gone to heaven.
“Like that, honey?” I ask as I circle the hard bud of her clit.
“Yes. Oh…” She writhes on my lap. “Yes.”
I clamp a hand on her thigh to still her. “Glad to hear it. You can’t move too much. You can’t be too loud. Or people will guess I have my hand on your pussy and that I’m making you feel good.”
“We shouldn’t.” She whines the words.
“But it feels too good to stop,” I argue.
She hesitates, and I see her mercilessly biting that swollen lower lip before she lifts her hips with a wheedling cry. “Way too good.”
Fuck, this game, meant to get her out of her head, is going straight to mine.
“That’s right,” I pant in her ear. “You’re so juicy against my fingers. Still worried I can’t make you come?”
When I circle her sensitive nubbin again, she only answers with a gasp. Her head falls back to my shoulder. Rhythmically, she rocks her hips back onto my cock, then up against my fingers, back and forth, driving us both within an inch of sanity.
I wish like fuck I could see her. I imagine her cheeks are flushed and her eyes heavy-lidded. I’ll bet her pussy is glossy and pink, lushly female as she parts her legs wider for me and invites me even deeper.
I slip a finger past her engorged folds and into her tight, sweltering heat. She closes around my digit with a cry and clamps down. Fuck, when I work my cock inside her, she’s going to be like a fist. And as much as that idea turns me on, the way she’s riding my fingers and calling my name fucking unhinges me.
“Think you’ll come for me now?”
“Maybe.” Her voice shakes. “Probably. Trace…”
“What do you want?”
“So much. Your clothes off. Your lips on mine. Your body against me.”
“Me inside you?” I scissor and swirl my fingers inside her to press my point. “Fucking you until you scream?”
She nods earnestly. “Please. Yes.”
“So polite… But I know there’s a dirty girl in there.”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m not—”
“You’re letting me finger you at the bar,” I point out, working my digits deeper inside her and teasing her clit with my thumb until her wail fills my ears. “If you don’t want it, tell me.” Other than her harsh breathing, total silence. “Masey?”