Over top my panties, he runs the tips of his fingers over my pussy.
“You’re already wet for me,” he whispers, moving his mouth to my ear. “Good girl.”
A shiver runs through me. The bastard knows me enough by now to know those words melt my core.
“It has nothing to do with you.” I curl my fingernails into my palms, hoping the bite of pain will snap me out of this sensual trance he’s pulling me into.
He chuckles, a low and dangerous sound, just before sinking his teeth into my neck. I freeze, biting back the moan trying to escape as he runs his tongue over the bite.
“Like I said, you’re a bad liar.”
“You seemed to think I was pretty good at it earlier. You accused me of playing you last night,” I remind him.
He presses his finger against my clit. Only the thin fabric of my panties keeps our skin from touching yet heat spreads as though he’s lit my panties on fire.
“I was angry.” He rubs my clit in a circular motion, kissing my throat again. “I was surprised to see you.”
“You…” I have no idea what I want to say. He moves my panties to the side and touches my clit with his finger.
“I what?” He brings his gaze back to mine, gliding his finger through my wet pussy lips until he reaches my entrance. “Finish your thought.”
I want to. Desperately I want to show him he can’t just touch me and set my world ablaze.
But he’s right.
I’m a terrible liar.
“I don’t remember.” I gasp as he pushes two fingers into me, curling them as he presses against the exact spot the universe created so women would forgive men anything.
“Do you remember your three rules?” He wraps an arm around my waist, holding me to him as he thrusts his fingers intome, finger fucking me as I stand there in a cotton nightgown and a messy bun.
I nod. “Yes,” I answer breathlessly.
“Tell me.”
“If I want you to stop, I say so. If I don’t say to stop, do what you say, and no guilt.” How can my brain remember that, but forget that this man is supposed to be my enemy?
“Very good.” He slips his fingers from me and brings them, glistening with my arousal, to my lips. “Clean my fingers.”
I stare at his fingers. Is he trying to humiliate me again, like he did at the alter?
“Breaking rule number two already?” He presses his fingers to my lips. “Go on, sweetheart, clean my fingers. Unless you’d like your first punishment as my wife?”
My gaze flies up to his.
“Try me.” It’s a taunt. He wants to punish me.
And hopefully there’s a place heaven for fools like me, because so do I.
He grins. “Open up, sweetheart or go to bed wet and wanting.”
Hesitantly, I part my lips, and he shoves his fingers through, rubbing them over my tongue until all I can taste is my arousal.
“Such a good girl, now suck.” His eyes are on my mouth. He scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip as I gently suckle his fingertips.
With a groan, he rips his fingers out of my mouth. In a flash, he grips the neckline of my nightgown and tears it down the middle, discarding it as it falls from my shoulders. When he reaches for the panties, I grab hold of his wrist.
“I’ll take them off. You can’t keep destroying my clothes.”
