Damn.
I slipped my finger inside myself, my breathing coming heavier as Thrax wouldn’t take his eyes off me. My eyelids fluttered shut, and I imagined it was his cock instead of my finger—thick, heavy, filling me in a way my body ached for. But Thrax wasn’t the kind of man who would ever leave me feeling empty the way my finger did. Even the thought of him inside made my walls pulse around nothing.
So I pushed in a second finger, gasping, my back arching hard against the wall as I fingered myself under the weight of his heated stare.
The obscene sound of my slick arousal mixed with the ragged moans falling from my lips, filling the chamber. My pussy grew wetter with every stroke, each drag of my fingers leaving me trembling harder.
“Thrax…” I moaned hoarsely, my eyes peeling open just enough to see the sharp tick in his jaw. As if watching my fingers thrust in and out was wrecking him just as much as touching myself was destroying me. I would bet my life he was rock hard again, his cock begging for another relief, yet holding himself back.
“Do you say my name when you make yourself come?” he asked, voice rough.
Heat licked up my neck as I nodded. “Yes. I imagine it’s you fucking me.”
His eyes closed, head dropping back for half a second. When his gaze returned to mine, his pupils were blown wide.
“And?” he said, demanding more.
“And beg you to make me come,” I breathed, my hand alternating between rubbing my clit and thrusting my fingers into myself, body arching helplessly in his hold, trying to mimic what I needed from him.
His throat worked as he swallowed hard. “And you come with my name on your tongue?”
“A lot of times.”
Something primal flashed in his eyes before his gaze dropped lower again to where I was making a mess of myself, where my whole palm was slick and wet, my fingers disappearing inside me again and again. His jaw tightened, his pain very evident. I wanted him to take over. Gods, I needed him to. Because no matter how I tried, nothing compared to the orgasm he gave me on that stool. Every time I’d chased after it, I always ended up empty and unsatisfied, still aching for him.
“Please,” I mewled, the plea ripping out of me unbidden as tears of pleasure pricked at my eyes. My body was on the brink, my orgasm crawling closer but slipping further away without him. “Please, Thrax.”
His nostrils flared, voice thick and pained. “Make yourself come,Nher.” His skin was hot as fire, body stiff as stone.
I shook my head violently. “Do it yourself.”
Thrax’s arm shifted, one hand leaving my arse to reach for the wall beside me. He turned the shower on, water cascading down, touching only one side of us since we weren’t standing directly underthe spray. It sluiced over his shoulder, down the bulge of his arm and to the leg wrapped around his waist. The water was definitely not hot, not even warm, yet steam rolled off his skin, curling in the air and around us. It took a second for my lagging brain to realise it was because of his hot temperature, and given our situation, it was a sight to behold.
“I want to see how you fuck yourself to orgasm,” he said.
My body couldn’t hold itself steady anymore. My skin pulled tight, my knees buckled, goosebumps prickling across my flesh. “I need you to do it for me. Please,” I cried, voice cracking.
“I’d really appreciate it if you stopped saying things like that.”
He was giving in.
I thrust my fingers harder, frantic and desperate, but it wasn’t enough. Not when he was right there, close enough to touch me. “Make me come, Thrax. I want you to make me come.”
His molars ground together once—the sound of his control snapping.
Then he moved.
With one hand supporting my weight, I yanked my fingers out just as his own replaced them—two at once, bigger, thicker, plunging all the way in without hesitation, without mercy.
Shock ripped down my spine.
I screamed, my body bowing against him, nails digging into his skin. The stretch had me gasping, filling me so much deeper, so much rougher, than I had anticipated.
“Yes—yes—oh, gods—”
“You’re so wet.” His voice was jagged as his fingers thrust into me again, harder and ruthless. I hadn’t even realised my eyes were shut until he spoke up again. “Open your eyes and look at me. Keep them on me while I fuck you.”
I wanted to keep them closed, to fall into the sensation, but I couldn’t disobey him, not when he was in control. I cracked themopen, meeting his gaze through tears that blurred my vision, my whole body shaking in his arms.
