His thumb runs down the inside of my leg and back up, and a stifled cry escapes my lips. I try so hard to muffle the sound, but it comes out anyway.
And Dylan hears it.
“Jasalie.” His voice is so low above my head I barely hear him.
His hand stills.
Shit.He’s waiting for me. To tell him what I want.
When I don’t move, he lifts his hand off my leg and rests it on his chest.
But I’ve stopped thinking straight.
The ache between my legs is so intense I’m trembling.
I grab his hand and return it to my leg, but this time, to the inside of my hip, right next to my jeans zipper.
Dylan sucks in a breath.
He shifts onto his side, making sure to keep me tucked in next to him.
Then he runs his hand over the waistband of my jeans.
When he slips his finger just inside, his callused pad touches the soft skin of my stomach, and I nearly come apart.
I clutch his shirt into a tight fist and bury my face in his shoulder. I feel like I’m going to explode.
His arm wrapped snugly around my back brings me even closer to him, and now he’s undoing the button of my jeans.
When he slowly releases the zipper, I bite—bite—his shirt. Hard. I may have even gotten a bit of skin.
I don’t know if he notices. God, I hope he didn’t notice.
“Sweetheart, you can bite me as hard as you want to.” His voice comes out choppy.
Oh, shit.Normally I would be embarrassed, but when his hand dips inside my open jeans and over my thin satin underwear, I stop hearing my brain altogether. All I feel is Dylan—his solid chest underneath my head, his manly scent enveloping me—and his fingers slowly making their way between my legs.
I’m drooling onto his shirt now as his fingers slide over my panties, the wetness underneath so slick he groans.
He presses one large finger where I need him most.
I feel like I’ve been on the verge of orgasm since I met him, and that’s probably why I’m writhing around like I’m going to die if I don’t come.
But I can’t let him inside me.
And it’s like he knows that. He stays outside my underwear, but he keeps touching me, and I buck my hips so hard I’m sure I’d be on the ground right now if he weren’t holding me tightly against him. His finger keeps up the relentless pressure on the painful throbbing between my legs—first he goes light, then harder, then light again. Just when I think he’s teasing me, he increases the pressure until my thighs tremble uncontrollably and I let out a loud cry.
But I can’t get my release. I just can’t fall over the edge.
I clutch at his shirt with my fists. I grind my teeth into the soft fabric, and I moan and kick my feet. But I’m…stuck.
“Let go, Jasalie.” Dylan’s rough voice in my ear cuts through all the bullshit. “Stop holding back. Come on, babe.”
I raise my head to look at him. His gaze is fevered, and his lips part when we lock eyes. He adds a second finger to the mix as he strokes me in a way that should be illegal, and he softly whispers those two words again, “Let go.”
I come so fast I cry out in surprise and forget to shut my eyes to him. Wave after wave pulses through my core, and just when I think I’m done, a second mini-orgasm hits me.
Dylan stares at me the entire time I explode, his eyes liquid with desire. When I finish, he leans forward like he’s going to kiss me. Like he’s going to meld his mouth to mine, and I know I’ll never be the same again.
