He was going to murder me with a—
“If you’re not going to talk, then I’m going to take what I want,” he groaned. “Your silence is my permission unless you say otherwise.”
A full body shudder volted through me as his hand dropped from my breast and trailed like fireworks down my body. Down and down. Lower and lower.
I arched on my tiptoes, pressing into him, giving him all my balance as my world turned shadowy and shivery and sinful.
I tried to speak.
To ask what he planned on doing, but I lost the ability of speech as his fingers landed over my core and gathered the fabric of my dress.
Each rock of his wrist as he bunched it higher and higher threatened to brush against the very place I needed, needed,needed.
I moaned as the heel of his palm pressed down, gathering the final hem and dipping his hand beneath.
“Fuck, you’re as hot as I am under here.” I didn’t recognise his voice anymore. Gruff and smoky, black as the devil.
I didn’t just tremble, I quaked.
I clutched the knife he forced me to hold—his hand still tight around mine, anchoring us together as he sucked in a breath. He brought my hand with his, wrapping his arm around me and binding me at the same time, the knife glinting in our grip.
His shoulder dipped down. He curled over me. A soft curse caressed my ear as he groaned, “I’d ask you to teach me what to do but...we’re running out of time.” Pressing his forehead to my temple, he added, “If we survive past today, we’ll practice.”
And then his hand cupped between my legs.
Firmly. Fiercely. Hot and heavy and claiming.
I convulsed.
His hips rocked into my back, grinding his arousal against me. “Fuck.”
His unnatural body heat soaked into me as a soft beep came from his chest. He staggered a little but spread his legs, binding me to him as if I could take away his pain.
My mouth dropped wide as his fingers feathered to my clit and pressed down.
Three of them. Flat and determined and strong. He rubbed me. Once, twice. His touch slipped a little lower, giving me the entire length of his fingers while the tips strayed mind-breakingly close to slipping inside me.
If only I wasn’t wearing underwear.
If only I’d known he’d choose today to break and—
“OhGod.” I clenched as he found that perfect, perfect spot.
He breathed heavily against my ear, not speaking, entirely focused on where his fingers were.
He rubbed me. Rhythmically. Punishingly.
All those days, all those weeks—I didn’t stand a chance.
I detonated.
The sharpest, quickest orgasm tore through my body, releasing in savagely clenching waves.
His teeth sank into my neck from behind as he hooked his fingers around me, almost pulling me off the floor as if he wanted to feel every wave, every throb, every quiver, quake, and shudder.
I cried out as it kept going, bands after bands of pure, piercing pleasure, soaking into his hand.
He captured all of it, not letting me go.
