“Answer me,” I grit out. It was getting hard to control myself when all I wanted to do was find out how perfectly I fit inside her.
“Y—yeah,” she breathed. Her body squirmed, and I felt the heat radiating from her aching center. She wanted this. She wantedme.
“Of course you do. Your panties are soaked, and I’ve barely touched you.”
“Says the man who nearly came in his pants five minutes ago because we were making out,” she barked back.
I landed three smacks quickly, her cries going straight to my cock. “Your smartass comments have repercussions now, killer. Better watch it if you wanna be able to sit down tomorrow.”
“If it hurts, will you kiss it better?” she asked.
I raised my brows and dropped my gaze to her ass. “Oh yeah? Is that what you want?”
She bit her lip. “Maybe.”
I’d have to file that away for later because that was something I absolutely wanted to explore, but I didn’t have the patience tonight. Leaning forward, I let my fingers graze the wet spot on her underwear. She squirmed around, searching for the friction that’d ease her suffering.
“Please…”
“Please,what? What does my little slut want?”
“God, why is that so fucking hot?” she whispered, rolling her head to the side. “You’re killing me here.”
“I’m just teasing you like you teased me. For fuck’s sake, you’ve paraded around here for months, taunting me with someone I couldn’t have, but now I’ve got you right where Iwant you.” I pulled her panties to the side, sucking in a breath at the sight of her glistening cunt.
Jesus Christ.
Lennox Hayes had me in the palm of her fucking hand, and she didn’t even know it.
“Please, Bishop…” she whimpered. “Touch me.”
And it was the sound of my name in that desperate fucking tone that broke the final tether of my self-control.
lennox
. . .
“Holy shit,”I gasped, closing my eyes as Bishop slowly circled my clit. It was blissfully agonizing, the sweetest torture, as he watched me rock against his hand, searching for the right amount of pressure. I was embarrassingly close to coming from a few light touches, but it wasn’t enough.
I wanted more, but I could feel his hesitation.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.
“What?”
He paused for a moment, touch hovering over the spot I wanted it most. “Tell me to stop, Lennox. Tell me it’s a bad idea. Tell me this is reckless. Tell me we shouldn’t be doing this for any number of fucking reasons that I can’t even think of right now.”
“But I?—”
“Because if you don’t,” he said, interrupting me. “God help me, I don’t think I can. Not unless you tell me to.”
I turned and peeked at him from over my shoulder. His gaze was locked on my ass, on the spot where I was exposed. “Doyouwant to stop?”
I was afraid of the answer, but I had to know. Was Bishopdoing this for me? Or did he want this just as badly as I did? All signs pointed to yes, but his hesitance caught me off guard, and I didn’t want to be just another regret.
If he genuinely didn’t want this, I’d get dressed, and we could go our separate ways without too much hurt clouding our relationship. It’d be awkward, sure, but we would get over it because it was a decision we made together.
Not something he decided at eight in the morning after he sat in a corner and watched me sleep all night.
