“Forgive me.” I lose the plea on her breast. “I couldn’t help it, Lily. I had to be near you.”
“I understand,” she whispers in reply. “I needed that as well.”
Adrenaline rushes into me. Fuck. I was right. My angel has been stalking me too. I lift myself so I’m braced over her, covering her little body with mine. I stare into her pretty brown eyes.
“You love me, don’t you?”
Neither of us breathes.
I shouldn’t have said that. It’s too much, too soon. I’m a fucking devil and she’s an angel. Of course she doesn’t love me.
But she doesn’t reply.
“Tell me the truth, Lily.” I slide my hand down and linger meaningfully at the waistband of her knickers.
She presses her lips together, whitening their pink bow.
“Tell me the truth, or you’ll pay the other price.” Deliberately, I pluck the elastic aside and stretch the cotton of her little white knickers with my big hand as I push in further.
I’m a beast.
Still not a peep from her.
My fingertips brush soft curls. I don’t stop.
And as I reach lower, she whimpers. Then I feel it. She’s soaked through her knickers. The warm, wet arousal is spilling out of her, and my fingers slip into her folds so easily, like melted butter.
A groan tears from my throat as I find her clit, already firm and swollen for me. A light stroke and her hips roll. Lily pushes herself onto my hand.
“That’s it,” I tell her. I circle the little bud and she gives a choking cry. “So responsive. So wet.”
I begin a slow campaign to bring her to the peak, but immediately she’s writhing, needing more.
“Do you want me to make you come on my fingers?”
A wordless keening noise is all the reply I get, and she tenses, heels digging into the mattress.
“I think you need to come, angel.” It’s in every shuddering part of her body. She’s wound up beyond bearing. I did that to her.
I put a little more pressure onto her clit for the next touch, and she gasps.
Irresistible. Lily is beautiful like this. I keep stroking her as she trembles.
“Be my good girl. Tell me that you love me, and I’ll give you both,” I say, the risk rasping my throat. “I’ll give you everything you need. I’ll spoil you.”
“Kane.”
She gets wetter and wetter, my fingers soaked right to the palm. Slippery and so right, just as I knew she would be. I bring my head to hers as I demand more.
Truth or orgasm. And if she won’t give me words, she knows the alternative.
I press my lips to hers, and she kisses me back, sweet and inexperienced. Clumsy almost, in a way that makes my cock ache to be inside her.
“I love you,” I whisper, the confession raw.
But that’s what she needs. She tips over, and every orgasm I’ve had is put to shame by the feeling of her coming apart in my arms, my fingers on her clit, my mouth on hers.
I ease her through it. Kisses on her cheeks and forehead, soft strokes, and besotted words.
