“Do it now. Or I’ll make you.” He cracks the belt through the air. A reminder that if he wanted to hurt me, he could.
“Please, Jacob just?—”
He flicks the belt, slapping it onto the top of my foot. I let out a hiss, feeling the burn instantly.
“Now.”
So, I do what he asks, parting my legs just enough. Heat floods my cheeks, and I feel every ounce of pride slip away with it.
“Wider,” he orders, hitting the table with his belt.
So, I do.
“Don’t fucking test me, Summer. I want them wider. As wide as your little body can handle. Let me see all of you.”
“Jacob—”
He slams the belt against the table again—harder this time.
I do. I let my legs fall open, as wide as they’ll go.
A low sound rumbles from his chest, something between a growl and a purr—approval, dark and possessive.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, voice rough, almost reverent. “So fucking mine.”
The last words are so soft I almost think I imagined them.
He steps closer to me, and I’m certain that in this moment he is going to bury his cock in me. But he doesn’t. Instead, he leans down and blows cold air onto my entrance.
“You’re wet for me, baby.” He groans, and I can hear the desperation to touch in his voice. “I could eat you fucking dry Summer. Lick, suck and claim every drop of you right now.”
My hips buck in reaction to his words, the sensation of the cold air, and then the heat of his breath between my legs sending me into a frenzy, desperate to feel something.
He lets out a subtle laugh to my reaction. Enjoying the effect he has on my body.
“Mmmm, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”
A moan escapes my lips in a whimper, before I bring myself to stop.
“Tell me you’re mine, and I’ll give you what you want” he growls, wickedness dripping from every word. Cold air ghosts over me again, making me shiver.
God, I need to feel him. I need something—anything. The ache inside me coils tighter with every breath, stars flickering at the edge of my vision. I’d do anything to make it stop… or to let it consume me completely.
“I… I’m.” I stop myself, unable to give myself to him.
When he realizes I’m not going to say it, he holds my thighs apart and with one movement traces the pad of his tongue from my entrance to my clit. He does it with such slowness, such precision, halting on my clit and holding his tongue still for what feels like an eternity. A sound escapes me—raw, startled, nothing like anything I’ve made before. No one has ever touched me there with their mouth; the shock of it sends lightning through my veins.
He lifts his head just enough for our eyes to meet, my arousal shining on his lips. His tongue drags across the bottom one, a low groan rumbling from his chest.
“Fuck, Summer,” he breathes. “You taste incredible.”
“Jacob—” I gasp, the word breaking on a moan.
He dips his head again, and I ache for him—to feel the press of his tongue against that tender, throbbing spot—but instead, he pauses, lifting from between my legs and looming over me, his mouth centimeters from mine.
“You want to come for me so fucking bad, Summer. But—” he shakes his head and pulls away, readjusting himself in his slacks, “you don’t deserve that... Bad girls don’t get happy endings.”
He steps away, wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and walks out of the room.
