Instead, I bite my lip, refusing to give in so easily.
His fingers still inside me, waiting. The silence between us stretches taut.
“Say it,” he repeats, his voice rougher now.
“Make me,” I challenge, arching an eyebrow even as my body trembles around his fingers.
Something dark and thrilling flashes in his eyes. “Oh, I will.”
His fingers start moving again, faster now, the heel of hispalm grinding against me. I'm climbing higher, my breath coming in short gasps, the cold stone wall against my back trying to temper the heat building between my thighs.
Just as the first tremors of release begin to ripple through me, he pulls his hand away completely.
“What—” I gasp, my hips chasing his touch.
“You'll get to come when you admit who you belong to right now,” he says, his voice calm even as his eyes burn with hunger.
I glare at him, frustrated and aching. “You're an asshole.”
“And you're stubborn.” His fingers return, sliding through my wetness, teasing but not entering. “We could be here all night.”
He pushes two fingers back inside me without warning. My head falls back against the wall, a moan escaping before I can stop it.
“Shhh,” he whispers, his free hand coming up to cover my mouth. “Unless you want everyone at this conference to hear you begging for me.”
I bite his palm in retaliation, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make my point. He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest and into mine where our bodies are pressed together.
“Still fighting me,” he murmurs, curling his fingers to hit the spot that makes my vision blur. “Always fighting.”
I'm climbing again, faster this time, my hips moving in rhythm with his hand. I'm so close, so fucking close.
And then he stops again.
“Beckham,” I whimper against his palm, not caring how desperate I sound. “Please.”
“Please what?” He removes his hand from my mouth,brushing his thumb across my bottom lip. “Tell me what you want, Hennessy.”
“I want to come,” I hiss, frustration making my voice shake.
“On whose hand?”
I clench my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“Have it your way.” He starts moving again, building me up.
This time I'm ready, bracing myself for when he'll stop. But it doesn't make it any less maddening when he does, pulling away just as I'm about to topple over the edge.
“Fine,” I gasp, my pride finally crumbling beneath the weight of my need. “I'm yours. Right now, at this moment, I'm yours.”
The smile that spreads across his face is pure sin. “Good girl,” he purrs, his fingers immediately resuming their assault on my senses. “Was that so hard?”
“Shut up and make me come,” I demand, my hips rocking desperately against his hand.
He presses his forehead against mine, his eyes locked on my face. “Look at you, so fucking perfect. You think I didn't see how wet you got when I said I'd hurt anyone who touched you? How your pussy clenched around my fingers?” His words are filthy and reverent all at once, each syllable driving me higher. “You like knowing I'm obsessed with you, don't you? That I'd burn down this whole fucking conference just to see you come apart for me?”
“Yes,” I gasp, not bothering to deny it anymore. The raw possessiveness in his voice is doing things to me I can't explain.
“I've jerked off thinking about this tight little cunt more times than I can count,” he continues, his fingersworking me relentlessly, curling and stroking in a rhythm that's rapidly dismantling my ability to think. “Imagining how you'd feel, how you'd taste, how you'd sound when you're coming on my cock.”
