Penelope
It doesn’t hurt. This is new.
I’ve had wet dreams before about this man, pictured him kissing me, touching me, and everything in between. Every time I’ve woken up with my pussy tingling, I’ve always been afraid to address it.
I never want to experience that kind of pain again, not even with my fingers.
But this…
Judge groans beneath me as my hips grind against him. I have to stop myself before I give in to the pleasure I’m feeling.
“Am I hurting you?” Blinking out of my daze, I lift my hips ever so slightly. “Should I stop?”
I want us both to feel good. I need it.
His grip on my hips tightens before he drags me back, right against his arousal. I can feel every inch of him, all the proof I need that Judge sees me exactly how I want him to.
“It hurts, but in a good way.” Groaning again, I feel his thighs flex beneath me as he mutters his feelings.
Can it hurt in a good way? Is that what this ache is I feel between my own legs? A throbbing that makes me want to feel something pressed against the source.
“If you touch me… will it feel good?” Grabbing his hand, he lets me press his fingers against the seam of my shorts.
Judge wouldn’t hurt me. He’d stop if I asked him to. He’s a good man.
“Penelope…” Croaking my name, he shakes his head. “We’re moving really fast. I don’t want you to regret this. I don’t want—”
“Even if I really want it?” Letting out a shaky breath, I grind my hips in hopes he can feel even a hint of what I am.
My underwear is clinging to my skin. I can feel the slickness forming, more than I’ve ever felt at once. The tingling is growing by the minute, and something tells me this ache is going to get a lot worse if I leave it untouched.
His brows push together, and I can see the fight happening inside of his head. Even when it’s just us, he’s at war. This time, it’s my fault.
“I trust you.” Murmuring the words, I cup his cheek, hoping to silence the fight. “You’re… I only want you to touch me.”
There’s no denying the way satisfaction rolls across his face. Even if he’s battling himself, he can’t deny how much he enjoys my words.
Finally, he nods, sighing in defeat.
“Let’s make you more comfortable, then.” He uses his hands to turn me around. Sitting up so I can use his chest like a wall to lean on, his hands move to my shorts. With a little bit of teamwork, he slides my shorts and underwear off. Once he’s hooking my ankles with his and parting my thighs, he’s groaning against my throat. “Pen, I’m serious. If you change your mind, you need to say it. You won’t hurt my feelings.”
He’s so freaking cautious of me, it’s not funny. How many times am I going to have to tell him that I’m okay?
It’shim. If it were anyone else…
“Touch me, Samuel.” The demand leaves my lips before any bad thoughts can ruin this moment. “Please.”
His chest rumbles with a groan, and he curses against my ear. Hedoesreally like it.
Ever so carefully, his fingers slide down my shirt before lightly grazing my sex. Tracing my slit, he stills completely, his focus aimed on one thing only.
He’s always had big fingers. I’ve lost count of how often I’ve stared at them while wrapped around a bottle or a shot glass. He’s made cigarettes look small. Made me realize that there’s power behind those fingers.
My legs jerk the moment I feel those fingers brush against my clit. His ankles keep my legs in place, but he can’t stop the whimper that catches in my throat.
“Must’ve been a really good dream…” Mumbling to himself, he continues exploring. “You’re soaked, Pen,” he rumbles, pleased with the discovery. “You like my touch that much?”
Nodding my head, my skin burns as he pulls his hand away momentarily, just so we can appreciate the shine to his digits. I watch in horror as he brings them to his lips.
