I run my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, kissing him back and whimpering as he keeps fingering me, rubbing my clit with his thumb at the same time.
“Denver,” I gasp, climbing higher, trapped beneath the heat of his body.
“Say your word, Sinclair,” he rasps, before kissing me even harder so I can’t speak even if I wanted to.
I moan around his tongue, my fingers gripping his hair tighter so he can’t go anywhere.
“Say it,” he repeats.
The rock-hard length of his dick presses against my inner thigh.
“I want to take them off,” I pant against his mouth.
“No,” he growls.
“Yes.”
“If you get naked beneath me, Sinclair, then I can’t promise you that I won’t fuck you for real right here on this mat. This has gone too far. Say your word.”
“I’ll never say it, you can’t make me.”
Denver breaks our kiss. His lips are a darker pink and he licks them like he’s savoring my taste. “You need to stop this now.”
He pulls his finger from inside me and I whine at the loss.
“Take my clothes off, or I will,” I demand.
When he doesn’t move, I sit up, forcing him back onto his knees. I peel my crop top over my head and throw it to one side.
His eyes drop to my breasts and darken as he curses.
“You do the rest. Then I’ll let you suck them again.”
“Fuck, Sinclair. We can’t?—”
I reach out to pull him to me, but he’s already coming anyway. Our lips crash together, and he holds my neck as he kisses me roughly, his other hand dropping to grab my breast.
“You know how beautiful you are to me? How much I want you even though I shouldn’t?”
He breaks our kiss and lowers his head, cupping my breast and lifting it to his lips to suck on my nipple. Slickness pools between my thighs. I moan as he switches sides before rising to kiss me again.
“Say your word, Sinclair.”
“No.” I nip his bottom lip between my teeth, and he inhales sharply.
He’s shaking his head, his face a mask of dark turmoil as he uses the hand around my neck to encourage me to lie down. He lets go and holds my eyes as he grabs one of my sneakers. The laces are undone again, and he lifts one with one finger, letting it drop back against the shoe.
“About the only time they’ve been useful.” He tuts.
He pulls it off my foot, followed by the other, then drags my tights down, holding them in his hands as he looks at me laid out in just my panties.
“Not just those,” I say.
His gaze drops to my black lace panties, and he drops my tights and scrubs a hand around his jaw.
“Say the word, Sinclair,” he growls, his eyes fixed on them.
“Take my panties off, Denver.”
