The leather creaks under his weight as he leans in close and lines his lips up with my ear.
“And what do I get if I win, little thief?”
The dark honey in his voice whispers against my ear. Heat floods my body as wetness dampens my panties. My breath catches. I know he can tell by the smile that curves his lips.
Kane could ruin me with a touch.
“You won’t.”
“No? Are you sure?” His fingers graze my chin, and we lock eyes. This close, our lips almost touch.
“Because if I win,” he says, “I want you to admit you’re mine.”
I swallow, rasping, “I’m not yours.”
“No? You’ll never be mine, right?”
“Right,” I croak.
“Just like I would never fuck you.” He leans in even closer, brushing his tempestuous lips over mine, our eyes connecting in a clash of heat. “And now your tight little pussy is tender and swollen. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your slight wince every time you shift.”
Of course, he has. He’s observant as hell. Nothing slips by him.
When I don’t reply, he grabs my chin, tilts my face away, and whispers in my ear. “Because you took my cock like a good girl earlier. Every. Fucking. Inch.”
My chest rises as he releases my chin to brush my hair away from my neck, lingering with the backs of his fingers on my racing pulse point.
“You say one thing, little thief. But your body betrays you.” He rips open the button on my jeans, his big hand sliding into my damp panties. I gasp at the feel of his thick fingers pressing into me.
“I’m addicted to your pussy.” He begins to pump, and my eyes water from the fierce sting of being filled so suddenly again after sex, but fuck if it doesn’t feel good, too. Maybe there’s something wrong with me, because let’s face it: pain excites me.
“Do you have any idea how good you feel on my fingers? How tightly you grip me? This is a greedy little pussy, isn’t it?”
“Kane, fuck,” I gasp, clasping the door… his shoulder… whatever object is closest.
“Tell me this pussy belongs to me.” His thumb finds my clit, and I almost combust. “Say it.”
Somehow, some-fucking-how, I shake my head.
I will never say those words to him.
Kane shifts closer, pressing his lips to my ear as he drives his thick fingers into me. “Fine, keep the words to yourself, lock them up in that vault of yours, but I feel it, you know? How your pussy grips onto me like it’s fucking desperate for a good fingering.”
God, he has such a filthy mouth.
“Shit,” he whispers when a broken moan slips past my lips. “I love the sounds you make for me. Those desperate, breathy little whines. Do you have any idea how much you arouse me?”
“Kane… oh god.” My pussy clenches around his ruthless fingers. He crooks them to hit that magical spot inside me, rubbing and massaging every inch of my inner walls. The pressure between my legs tightens, wetness coating his hand. When the sensations become overwhelming, I grab his wrist, mypussy spasming. The wave crests, and I explode with a sharp cry, toes curling in my shoes.
Breathing heavily, Kane makes a strangled sound in his throat, his fingers losing their rhythm. Then he curses and presses his forehead against my shoulder.
The air between us goes still. We don’t speak, simply existing in silence. Outside, the sun has nearly set, its fading light spilling through the windows.
“Fuck,” Kane mutters in defeat, sitting up to look down at his crotch. In my blissful post-orgasmic haze, it takes me a moment to realize what’s happened. Then my eyes widen, and laughter spills from my lips. I clap a hand over my mouth, but it’s too late.
“I swear,” Kane says, holding his hands up like he has no idea what to do about the dark stain on his pants, “I’ve never come in my pants before.”
“Never?” I ask, trying not to giggle. Honestly, I’m kind of flattered.
