My own pussy is throbbing. She sinks a finger into her entrance, then swirls her dampness over her clit, a moan escaping her when she does.
I barely realize I’m trying to scoot closer to her until her foot is back on my chest, and I surrender to simply rubbing her foot as she teases herself.
It’s a few mesmerizing minutes—eternal seconds of her fingers swirling her clit and deliberately pumping inside her entrance, those little gasps and moans making my head spin—before she decides to bring the wand into play, and when she does, my breath shortens along with hers.
Fuck, this is killing me.
She throws her head back as she moves the wand where she wants it, sometimes on her clit, sometimes just beside it, the pressure increasing. It’s barely thirty seconds of that thing before her shortened breaths turn to cries.
“Are you there, baby?” I ask, getting to my knees.
“Yes,” she cries. “So close—ah—”
I know that little whimper.
I know the sag of her mouth, that catch in the back of her throat.
She’s on the verge…
And I’ll be fucking damned if she finishes right now.
I grab her thighs and pull her flat onto the mattress. She yelps as I toss the vibrator from her hand and wrap my hand around her throat. My fingers squeeze her neck just enough that she gasps, and as her hands clench to my forearm, I bend over her. Her legs hike around my waist, her wet pussy brushing against my clothed one. I curse under my breath, still taking the opportunity to grind my pelvis against hers.
“Gemma,” she whimpers, her back arching.
“You like this position, don’t you?” I ask as I tease her.
“Yes,” she breathes.
My fingers curl into the soft space between her jaw and throat, and her eyes roll back. Her chest and hips jerk like she’s trying to hold back her orgasm, and I lean closer to her ear.
“You don’t get to come before this show, rockstar,” I rasp. “Not yet. Not after today. I was going to make you come so many times that you were still pulsing when you got on that stage. But now…”
I chuckle in her ear, gyrations slowing, pressure increasing. “Now, you’re going to feel the burn of my handprint on your ass the entire time you’re playing. Your ass will sting so badly that every second, you’ll be thinking about me. And when you come off that stage later, I won’t be waiting in the wings. You can search this festival all you want. Until I want you to find me, you’ll be lost.” I drag my tongue up the column of her throat. “However, once I decide you’ve waited long enough…” Another laugh leaves me, and I relish the hair rising on her arms. “You can plead your case for why I should let you enjoy the view from beneath me.”
Her eyes are so dilated that there’s barely a fraction of blue left in them.
I loosen my grip on her neck and kiss her hard. She threads her fingers into the roots of my hair, her wet pussy grinding on me when she tightens her thighs around me. I nearly say to hell with my plan. One swift move and I could have her coming on my hand, my pussy, my face—
“Get on your knees and bend over like a good little slut,” I whisper against her lips.
She kisses me again, this time groaning into my mouth, but I feel her moving just as I asked her to. Our lips part as I sit up. She locks eyes with me, turns around, and when she props her elbows onto the mattress, her back arched and ass hiked high in the air, I almost forget what the hell I was doing.
God, I love this dress.
I get to my feet and brace a hand on her hip.
“Breathe,” I say, noting her frozen chest. “You have to breathe for me.”
She nods.
My hand comes down on her ass, and as soon as contact is made, she squeaks, a moan immediately following.
Again. Again.Again.
I spank her four times—one for each of those beats she loves so much.
She’s whimpering into the mattress when I eventually stop. I don’t want to lay into her too much this first time. I don’t want to give her more than she can handle, especially when she’s going onstage soon.
