Page 118 of Wish I Might
Saying nothing, he laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face the side of the bed.“I know this week has been hard, Bailey,” he crooned.He stroked his hands down her arms to her hands and back up again, moving slowly, sensually.“And you’ve been such a good girl.”
She let out a sound, somewhere between a whimper and a moan, low in her throat.“Don’t tease me, Nash.”
He grinned into her hair.“I’m not teasing you, I’m praising you.You have been good.You didn’t have to follow my rules, but you did it anyway.”
She shifted restlessly, knees flexing, arms twitching.“Don’t remind me.”
“Why did you?”he asked quietly, shifting his hands to brush her hair back.His fingertips grazed her neck, and she shivered.“I know you didn’t want to.”
“Because,” she began, then cut herself off with a gasp when he reached around her waist for the tie of her robe.
“Because?”he prompted, deftly untying the strip of terrycloth holding the robe together.He let it drop, then shifted his hands to the lapels.
“It was part of the game,” she said, breath hitching as he drew the robe off her shoulders.
“Is that the only reason?”he asked and let the robe fall to the floor.
Fuck, she was gorgeous.The soft length of her back, the dip of her waist flowing into that plump, dimpled ass followed by thick thighs.He bent his head to her shoulder, wanting her scent and to watch her breasts, her belly, quiver with her breathing.
He wanted his hands on them, on her, but he wanted an answer first.“Is it?”
“I don’t know.”
He put his hands on her then, sliding one across her chest to palm a breast and the other around her waist.He took a moment to caress that sweet little belly before sliding down, down through damp curls to the hot, wet flesh below.
“Goddamn, Bay,” he murmured in her ear, tightening his arm around her torso when she jerked.“You’re fucking soaked.”
“I told you.”Her voice was strangled, her fingers like claws through his shorts when they reached back to latch onto his thighs.
He slid his hand lower, bypassing her clit to the soft opening below.He stroked a fingertip over it, barely nudging inside, and felt it flutter in response.“Have you been like this all week?”
“Yes.”Her hips pushed forward, trying to hump his hand.“Nash, please.”
“And you haven’t come at all?”
She let out a whine, desperate and needy.“Does it seem like I have?”
He laughed, low and triumphant and full of wonder.He was amazed, awed.Humbled.“No, it sure doesn’t.”
“Nash.”Her hips were undulating now, desperate for the deeper contact that would bring relief.“Please.You promised.”
“So I did.Okay, Bailey.I’m going to give you what you need.”
He pulled his hand free and gripped her waist, ignoring her wail of protest.Shifting his stance, he planted his other hand between her shoulder blades and pushed.
She pitched forward with a squeak, hands flying forward to catch herself on the mattress.“All the way down,” he ordered, increasing the pressure of his hand on her back, and after a heartbeat she obeyed, arms collapsing under her so she lay face down on the bed, torso flat to the mattress with her feet on the floor and her ass in the air.
“Good girl,” he said and gave her upturned ass an approving pat.
“Stop calling me that,” she muttered into the duvet and twisted her head to glare at him through a curtain of wet hair.“It’s weird.”
“But you are a good girl,” he said with a chuckle, and gave her ass a second, much firmer pat.
“Are you spanking me?”she wondered.
“Do you want me to?”
“I want you to make me come,” she replied tartly.
