“I’m going to let go of your wrists. If you fight me I’ll be forced to tie you up. Do you understand?”
My throat tightens and my heart quickens with trepidation. The last thing I want is to be tied up and completely at his mercy. In fact, right now that would pretty much be my worst nightmare.
But if he tries to do something I don’t want him to do how can I keep myself from trying to fight him?
His grip around my wrists eases. I flex my fingers and rotate my wrists to get the circulation flowing again.
“Place your palms flat on the bed.”
“Why?” I ask without thinking and immediately regret it.
His face darkens and I slap both my hands against the bed to appease him.
“Good girl,” he says and now his eyes glint with wickedness. “Keep them there until I give you permission to move them. Do you understand?”
I understand but I sure as hell don’t like it.
Frowning, I nod my head.
He sighs and his head drops down, his teeth nipping at my thigh.
I yelp and jerk away from him.
“I said, do you understand?”
“Good girl,” he murmurs and then proceeds to kiss the spot on my thigh he just bit.
The hurt is quickly soothed and my fingers grip at the sheet as the pain melts into a more pleasurable sensation.
His mouth. God, I love his mouth. I hate him, but I love those lips of his.
I feel myself relaxing, sinking into the bed. He turns his head and there’s the lightest scrape of his stubble as he goes to work on the other thigh. I’m so relaxed I spread my legs for him.
His hands slide up my legs, lingering at my stomach and then he’s rolling my panties down my hips.
Instantly, I stiffen, fighting the urge to reach down and stop him. I have no doubt that if I lift my palms from this bed he’ll do exactly as he promised.
He stops kissing my thigh and looks up at me, his eyes filled with triumph. My hands clench into fists. I want to smack that triumphant look off of his face.
Then the cool air hits my sex and I shiver. I didn’t even realize I was so wet.
His gaze drops and he stares hard at me. Immediately, I close my legs and lock my knees.
“Don’t you fucking hide from me,” he growls and reaches down, pulling my legs apart.
I cry out, utterly mortified. Tears of shame blur my vision.
His gaze drops again to my exposed pussy, his fingers digging into my knees and keeping me spread.
I turn my face away, unable to watch. Seconds tick by, and I just want to crawl into a hole and die. I wish he would just get this over with.
Then his breath hits my inner thigh and I sense movement down there. I glance down in panic and sure enough he’s getting up close and personal. He’s sticking his face all up in my business.
“Oh my god, what are you doing?” I ask.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he smirks. “I’m admiring the view.”
My cheeks flush with heat and the burn spreads all the way down my chest. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t what?” he asks, pretending to be confused, but that smirk of his sharpens. “Don’t look at this beautiful pink little pussy?”
“Oh god,” I gasp and shake my head.
He blows his warm breath right against my clit.
The little bundle of nerves lights up and all my muscles tense. My teeth sink into my lip as I swallow back a moan.
“This is my pussy now, and I plan to fully fucking enjoy it. Do you understand?”
Before I can catch my breath, his tongue touches my folds and slowly, torturously, drags up, parting them.
“Oh shit,” I gasp and my fingers claw at the bed.
I’ve never been licked down there before and it’s way, way too intense.
His tongue pauses right before he reaches my clit, leaving me hanging on the edge. “Do you understand, Lily?”
Shit. Understand what?
It takes me a second to figure out what he’s asking. The pulsing in my core is so strong it’s driving me to distraction.
If only he could touch my clit and ease it a little bit…
“Yes,” I gasp. I figure that’s the answer he wants for the question he’s asking.
He makes a rumbling sound of approval and then his tongue is touching me again. Another slow lap up, he takes his time as if he’s truly savoring me. As if he’s truly enjoying this.
Then he pauses just before my clit and I’m squirming in frustration.
Just do it, dammit.
“Whose pussy is this, Lily?”
What’s with the twenty questions?
He blows against me, and gah! It’s just enough to aggravate the pulsing throb but not enough to do anything about it.
“Whose pussy is this, Lily?” he repeats and then his tongue is on me again, doing little circles around my clit.