Page 107 of Right Man, Right Time
“You liked fucking with me tonight, didn’t you?” he asks, his thumb trailing up my stomach.
I bite the side of my mouth.
“I was impressed you held it together.”
“Do you thinkyou’llbe able to hold it together?” he asks as his hand moves south to the waistband of my thong. I suck in a sharp breath as his finger runs along the elastic. The soft touch sends zing after zing of arousal down my legs and up my stomach. “Or do you think you’ll crack?”
With his other hand, he slips it under the strap of my thong at my waist and holds me tight against his chest with his large, calloused hand. He drags his other hand up my stomach, just below my aching breasts. I want him to touch me.
I want him to touch me all over.
I suck in a sharp breath just as his thumb knocks against the underside of my breast, sending me into a tailspin of need.
“Fuck,” I whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear me.
But as his grip on my waist grows tighter, I know he did.
His scruffy jaw rubs against my smooth cheek as he swipes his thumb against my breast again.
I grind down on my teeth, telling myself I won’t moan. Not for him, not when he’s trying to prove a point.
But when he does it again, this time closer to my nipple, I exhale sharply and lower my forehead to the wall.
I can practically feel his smile of satisfaction as he moves his hand back down my stomach, causing it to hollow out as he brings his fingers to the edge of my thong and slowly slides them under.
Fuck me.
I want it.
I want him.
I want his fingers inside me.
His cock.
His mouth.
I back my hips up into his pelvis, and I’m fully satisfied to feel him hard. He might be torturing me, but at least he’s torturing himself as well.
“You know you want me,” I say. “I’ve been feeling it all night.”
He doesn’t answer. He removes his hand from my thong and proceeds up my stomach again. This time, he runs his hand over my breast, barely caressing my nipple, and goes all the way up until he’s gripping my throat.
A wave of arousal hits me so hard that I know if he just touched me once, I’d come. That’s how turned on I am. That’s how much he owns me at this moment.
That’s why I’m falling into the way he plays with me.
Holding my neck tight, he whispers, “Swallow.”
Unsure of what’s going on, I do as he says, and I swallow.
He lightly moans into my ear and says, “That’s what it would feel like if my dick was in your mouth. But you would take me deep, wouldn’t you?”
“Y-Yes,” I say.
His hand on my waist now twists around to the front and slides to the spot just above my slit. Right now, with him gripping my neck, toying with me in a way that has me so hot and bothered that I feel like I could explode, I know he owns me. I might have played with him earlier, but that was nothing compared to what he’s doing to me now.
“Ask for it,” he says, his lips running along my cheek.
