“Alright.” He’s still circling me. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
I gulp, my eyes widening and watching the smile curve up his face. “I—I don’t…”
“Say it.” He stops behind me and I hear his voice in my ear, the edge of dominance unmistakable. “Don’t hold back. I want to knowexactlywhat you want.”
You dug this grave,Rose. This was your idea.
“The truth, Rose, and don’t you dare lie. I promise you, I can tell.”
I believe him. The way this man stares at me, I think if so much as my pinky finger twitched, he would catch it.
“I want you.” I swallow, refusing to look at him. Rough fingers curl around my chin, dragging my gaze up to his.
“You want me towhat?” His voice is soft, his eyes staring intently into mine, not a trace of teasing in them. “Explicit detail, Rose,” he reminds me.
“I want you… to make me come,” I say, closing my eyes in horrified disbelief when I realize I’ve actually said the words out loud.
He’s silent and I feel my cheeks burn red with embarrassment.
“It’s my turn,” he says, and I release a breath before I pass out from holding it in. “I pickdare,” he says, without letting me ask the question. “Let’s make it a dare.”
He can’t be serious.
Rí leans in, kissing me again… the scent of him… the feel of his hands, all of it invading my senses, making it impossible to think, impossible to resist.
Without warning, he picks me up. My legs wrap around him in fear, clinging tight in case he drops me. But his grip on me is firm, his lips trailing down my neck as he brings me back over to his bike, swinging his leg over it and settling me down on his lap.
He wastes no time, his fingers trailing up the length of my inner thigh. I shudder. He pushes past my panties, and the corner of his mouth ticks up at the wetness he finds there.
I expect him to shove his fingers inside, pump them in and out, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just takes his thumb, pressing down lightly, slow circles edging along my sensitive clit. I inhale sharply, biting down hard on my lip to hold in a moan of pleasure when he increases his pace.
He smiles, well aware of what he’s doing.
“Dare me to make you comehow, little Rose?”
“Wh—What do you mean?” I ask, confused, tilting my head to the side.
“What’s the challenge?” he asks. When I just stare at him, not sure what to say, he holds up his fingers, and ticks them off, one-by-one.
“Do you want me to make you come using only my fingers?” And then the second. “Or only my mouth?” I swallow and he smirks. His third finger falls as he says, “Or am I to make you come without touching you?”
Without even touching me?My brain struggles to wrap my head around that one when I notice he’s stopped talking—taking note of my obvious confusion.
"Make. You. Come..." His accent rolls over my words, enunciating each syllable as he repeats them,reallyhearing them this time.
I squirm uncomfortably hearing it back—at how embarrassing I must sound.
His head tilts to the side and I feel him assessing me. My cheeks must be a bright shade of crimson by now.
“Little Rose, has no one ever made you come?” His words are soft in a way I hadn’t thought him capable, his fingers finding my chin and forcing my gaze back to his.
Way to let him know you’re terrible at sex, Briar.
“It’s my fault, I think I’m just broken or something…”
His fingers snap my head up so fast I swear I get whiplash.
“You’re not broken,” he growls under his breath and he looks… angry.
