Because I know, deep in my soul, that even though JP isn’t the man for me, because he’s not a relationship kind of guy, I can’t help my attraction to him. I can’t help but fall under his spell.
And I can’t help but want more.
More in this moment.
Keeping his mouth at my ear, he gently runs his finger over my collarbone. “You’re glistening, Kelsey. Your breath is uneven, your body is yearning for more, and I know for a fucking fact, that if I spread your legs, I’d find a wet cunt, begging for me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, processing his words, words that have never been spoken to me before.
Ever.
In my entire life.
And yet, they strike me so deep in my soul that I can feel just how penetrating they are. I know he’s right. I know he’d be happy if he pressed two fingers inside of me.
“Tell me it’s the truth.”
Never.
I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
I can’t.
He’d hold it over my head for a lifetime.
So, I keep my mouth shut.
“Is that how you’re going to be, Kelsey?” he asks, his nose now dragging over my cheek. “You’re not going to be truthful?” His fingers shuffle down my chest, to my nearly exposed breast. I hold my breath as he dances them over the loose fabric, my mind screaming, pleading for him to pull the fabric down, to lift my breast into his mouth.
“Your nipple is hard.” He makes the briefest pass over it with his thumb—so brief that I barely feel it—but it’s enough to cause the lightest of moans to pop out of my mouth. “Mmmm,” he hums into my ear. “That’s what I fucking thought.”
Then he takes hold of my hand and slides it under the loose fabric at my hip, bringing it to just above my pubic bone.
“Tell me this, Kelsey, do you have your vibrator with you?”
I nearly choke on my own saliva as I shake my head.
“Big mistake,” he says. He shifts my hand lower until my fingers slide along my crease.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“Fuckis right, babe,” he says, then passes his hand over mine and directs me to massage my clit. Unable to control anything at this point, I allow his hand to move mine. I spread my legs. “That’s right, make room. Tell me—how wet are you?”
On a heavy breath, I say, “Really wet.”
So wet.
Enough that I could spend no more than a minute getting myself off.
His voice, his hands, his possessive actions, they’re all setting me off, prepping me for what’s to come next.
And I want whatever it is.
He nibbles on my earlobe—yes, just like that, more of that—and a breathy moan falls past my lips. I want more. His hands on me. His mouth on me. His—
He pulls my hand out of my shorts and pins it against the wall.
My eyes fly open, and when he pulls away, he looks me in the eyes and says, “I told you, you were fucking lying.” And then, with his heated chest pressing against mine, he sucks my fingers into his mouth. He runs his tongue along the digits, licking my arousal, and then quickly releases them with a pop.
