Page 197 of Wallflower

My palms travel up my thighs, stopping at my hips where the ties of my checkered suit bottoms rest.

“Rose…” he growls.

A warning.

Slowly, I fiddle with the bows, watching his restraint crumble with each passing second.

I pinch the tie of the left side between my fingers, pulling it free leisurely.

“Do. Not.” The lethally sharp tone leaves no room for miscommunication.Like I give a shit.I’m addicted to twirling on the tip of his blade.

I pull the knot free, and the sides fall away.

“Stop,” he hisses. “What if someone sees?”

I shrug. “You started it.” A slow smirk curls my lips, and I yank the tie on my other side. The bottoms tumble to the ground between my spread thighs, exposing all of me to my better half.

The resonance of the growl deep in his chest is feral, animalistic, and completely new.

Fuck. Yes.

My fingers slide into my core, pumping slow.

His gaze darkens evermore, locking onto the movement.

Arousal coats my digits when I slide out, raising them to Ripley’s length.

His knees damn near give out at the first touch of my slickness.

My fingers wrap around him, unhurriedly stroking up and down. He chases my touch, urging me for more.

I drag it out—slow, deliberate. Knowing the mounting minutes weave his pleasure and apprehension into a web so intricate, he’ll never escape.

He’ll snap the threads that bind him before I bend to him.

And then I’ll get exactly what I want.

Leaning forward, I bring my mouth down over his tip to the melody of his choked whimper.

“Fuck…” he pants, “fuck yourself with your other hand.” His words are choppy, breathy. Undoing him is my favourite hobby.

I spread my legs more, following his instruction for once. A whimper vibrates down his shaft when I plunge my fingers into my centre. He moans in response, sights dancing between his cock in my mouth and my fingers buried in my cunt.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers.

I look up at him, flabbergasted. That was the last thing I expected at this moment, but it sends warmth…love spreading through me.

My nails curl into the back of his thigh as I swallow his cock. His length swells, twitching in pleasure as Ripley fights to hold back the orgasm clawing to erupt.

He fights my grip, pulling his dick from between my lips. “What are you doing?” I ask, wiping away the saliva stringing us together.

Yanking me up by my curls without a word, he grips my wrist with his free hand. Raising my fingers to his mouth, his lips close over my slick skin, licking and sucking every trace of my arousal clean.

Pulling them free with a groan as his eyes reopen, he observes me.

I don’t know what he wants, what his plan is.

He takes a step, tugging me along to the back of the building. His movements are hurried, frantic, and I don’t know why.