“Three…” I swallow, scrub a hand over my face. The rasp is loud in the silence. “No kissing. On the lips.”
“I know that.”
“Yeah, well you almost…”made me do it.
“What? What did I do, Zion?” She sounds hazy, still. In need of aftercare. Not a hard fucking. But a little irate, too, a little annoyed. A little snide. Her whole attitude’s an aphrodisiac made just for me.
“I don’t do brats.” It’s not a lie, exactly, since brats aren’t usually my thing. Not that I have anything against them, they just annoy me, usually.
Usually. When sex and kink are straightforward and easy. Rules, consent, desires. It’s all set out, decided, lines drawn.
Right here, right now, with her, though…
“Geez, wow.” The jangling of crystals as she moves to the edge of the bed. “Great aftercare, Zion. Seriously. You’re a freaking genius at this. A little constructive criticism, though? You might want to—”
“You’re such a goddamn brat.” I go to the bedside table and switch on the light, blinding us both. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m on her, over her. She’s trapped and, still, she doesn’t look cowed. Not intimidated. Not for a fucking second.
I slide my fingers into her hair, grip it tight, hold her still, and let my eyes roam this fuckingface.
“Usually,” I bite out, my breath skating over her ear, her cheek, her nose, lower. “Play partners let me take care of them after a session.” I dig my hips in, let her feel how hard I am, how desperate. “So. What you need to do now, Twyla.” I tighten my grip until it’s got to sting her scalp, but she doesn’t care. Doesn’t notice. Her eyes are hot and steady on mine. “Is tell me what you need.” My breath’s ragged. “Are you thirsty, you little brat?”
“No.”
“Need a shower? Massage?” I lean back enough to brush the evil jewel top aside and bare a soft breast, paler than the rest of her. “Bath? I’ve got a hot tub in the back.” I skim my knuckles over the painfully soft curve, lean in and bite her nipple, then counter the lift of her hips with my own.
Oh, fuck.Fuck.I dip and tighten again, the pressure of my erection to her mound almost enough to send me rocketing right here.
But that’s not what this is. I’m not coming in my pants while she lays here. “You hungry, baby?” I ask with another slide, then another. She shakes her head, which only serves to annoy me farther. “Warm enough?” Another thrust, another. Nodding, she bends her knees and pushes up, meeting every dip of my lower half. We’re dry-humping like teenagers—the most vanilla thing I’ve done since I found out what sex was—and I swear I’m about to come in my pants.
“Too hot?”
The long, slow slides turn into quick thrusts bringing my hard dick right into the crotch of those fucking shorts. I reach down between us and rub the seam. Wet. Of course.
“Not hot,” she breathes. “Just right.”
How the fuck does she sound so in control when I’m about to blow in my goddamn shorts? How? And when did this bullshit behavior start turning me on?
Frantic, I reach down and knead the same tit, pull at her nipple, then move to the other and, unable to stop, bend to take the dark tip into my mouth. I suck, hard.
She arches and squeals and I pound her little pussy through way too many layers. Caught up in some sort of frenzy, I reach into my shorts and pull myself out, shoving the waistband down as far as it’ll go without too much effort.
She gasps, looks down. Her mouth drops open.
“You ready, you fucking brat?”
She nods, quick and eager, but I’ve always been a words man and I need to hear it. “Tell me.”
“I want you in me.”
“Yeah? How?”
Her eyes flicker up to mine, clouded for a few seconds before understanding dawns. “Hard. Fast. Deep.” Her gaze stays fixed on where I’m stroking my cock. “Fuck me,” she whispers. “Now. Now.”
“Get those shorts off.”
She can’t with my weight on her, but it doesn’t stop her from trying. Her scrambling struggle tugs harder at my balls, makes me want her more. And then, because there’s thisthingbetween us that I just can’t understand, I grab her face in one hand and squeeze it, puffing her lips up into a look that’s almost comical.
Except it’s not funny at all. Nothing about her is. She’s deadly serious, even with that evil spark in her eye.
