I growled. “No.” Deep and low.
His hands fell away, but his eyes turned molten. He liked my commands.
When I got my jeans opened, I shoved them down. My underwear as well. My impatience had snapped. I was barely able to even think about what I was doing. I just wanted him, and I was done waiting. I didn’t sink back down on him. Not yet. My hand moved to his pants, and I growled again, because I couldn’t pull them down with only one hand.
I pushed my body against his, arching over him, and I hissed a low warning. “Stay.”
The blackness in his eyes sparked, but he didn’t respond. He stayed as I let go of his hand. Standing up, I shimmied the rest of the way out of my jeans and underwear. They were tossed aside, then I knelt before him. I yanked his pants down. My hand reached inside his boxer briefs and wrapped around his dick, finding it thick and long and hard.
I pulled his boxer briefs down the rest of the way. My hand worked him over.
His own groan slipped from him. He had moved his head enough so he could watch me. His eyes were hooded. For some reason, I liked that look on his face.
“Do you have a condom?”
His eyebrows lowered, just briefly, but he nodded. “Wallet. Pants pocket.”
I knelt down to fish it out, finding the condom. I pulled it out and sheathed it over him, my hand smoothing over his tip.
His body shook. “Fuck, Quokk—”
“No,” I snapped, glowering at him.
He bit his lip. Fuck. He liked what I was doing.
A part of me enjoyed that. It helped feed this wanton need that had risen to the surface, demanding to take over because I was so very tired of starving myself from him. Not anymore. Not tonight. I was going to have my fill.
I moved back over him and began to lower myself.
He caught my hips and squeezed. “Blake,” he rasped out.
“No.” I didn’t know what he wanted, but this was about me and what I wanted. But some reality slipped in, and I remembered that I needed to make sure he wanted to do this. “Do you want me?”
His hands flexed at my question. “Always.”
“Then I want this.”
He started to say something.
I clasped my hand over his mouth, shutting him up. “I need this, Creighton.”
He gently bit the inside of my hand, which sent tingles through my core. I was throbbing. After licking over that mark, he pulled his head back and murmured, “You’re a virgin.”
How did he—of course, he would know. “It’s creepy as fuck that you know that.”
He flashed me a slight smile but bent to kiss my hand again before taking it in his teeth, in a gentle hold. He raked his teeth over my finger before pulling back to say, “I need to make sure you’re ready. Let me.”
His hand slid to my clit, and he began circling there, massaging me.
Lust built and built the more he rubbed, then he slid a finger inside of me, stretching me.
I caught my breath.
He leaned in, his mouth finding my throat. He nuzzled there before moving up, kissing my chin, then my lips again. He spoke against them as he slid a second finger inside, moving both within me. “Your hymen is still intact. Are you sure you want to do this?”
I moved my head in permission, soundless.
He inserted a third finger, still stretching me.
