He’s trying to read me—to see if I’ll pull away.
I close my eyes, resenting how much I desire this and the control he has at this moment.
“Reece,” I whisper, almost in a murmur.
When I look at them again, he’s still watching me, eyes full of that same desperate hunger that I'm drowning in.It’s not just desire, it’s outright need.It’s written all over his face.
And for a moment, that terrifies me more than anything else.
His fingers glide over the front of my panties, tracing the wet spot he’s already responsible for.He doesn’t speak or smirk, or even tease me with that cocky mouth.He just strokes up and down my slit back and forth.I know he can feel how soaked I am.
My breath stutters.My hips jerk.I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from grinding into his hand.Last time, I lost control.Rode his face until I shattered, and when I came back down, I’d never felt more exposed.But even now, knowing I should pull away, every part of me leans toward him.
I want to experience that again.The way Reece made me feel before.Needed.Wild.Untouchable.He’s a fuckboy.Every girl knows it.And I’m not the exception.But there’s something inside me that doesn’t care.That still wants him anyway.
I whimper as he finally moves my panties aside and slides one finger inside me.Then another.My body tightens around him, slick and prepared, and he moves purposefully.Slow at first, curling just right, then faster, pressing in deeper until I have to close my eyes and breathe through the pleasure surging through me.
My head falls back, the world shrinking to the addictive pull of his fingers inside me and the heat rushing over my skin.I am gasping, overwhelmed by sensation, too lost in pleasure to care about anything else.
He lifts my shirt slowly, then winces as his body curls forward and his mouth presses against my skin.That hiss, the pain from the bruises on his ribs should remind me to stop.But it doesn’t.If anything, it makes my chest clench harder.
He pushes my shirt higher, then leans down again.His mouth finds my nipple through the lace, and he sucks gently, tongue dragging over the thin fabric.A sound claws at my throat, and I bite my lip trying hard to keep it down.A slutty little moan that reveals way too much.
I can’t keep my emotions in check.I never can when he’s nearby.
Ever since the day he saw me in the worst underwear disaster of my life—the saggy granny panties and a bra that did nothing for my figure—I swore it wouldn’t happen again.Not because I thought he’d get another chance to see me naked.Hell no.Reece Wilson was a mistake with a cocky grin and a reputation I had no business getting involved with.
But apparently my subconscious is a traitor.
Even though I told myself it was a one-time thing, an accident driven by weakness and hormones, I’m now wearing black lace that hugs my hips and makes me feel powerful.A bra that pushes up what little I have, as if it’s auditioning for round two.
I didn’t plan for this.I wasn’t supposed to want him again.
But here I am, dressed for war.Hoping he’ll be the one to start the fire.
The warmth of his breath brushes my skin, and everything inside me tightens.I’ve never been this girl before.I was the good one.The tame one.But Reece Wilson flipped some filthy, godforsaken switch in me.And now, I swear, the second he’s near me, I’m a fucking orgasm junkie.
My mind goes hazy, nothing but static and heat as his fingers move in rhythm.I can’t think clearly.I can’t think at all.I’m chasing it, right there, almost—
Then he pulls away.
A needy, broken sound tears from my throat before I can swallow it down.It’s humiliating and honest.I try to catch my breath, but all I can do is blink at the bastard, who just grins at me.
The cocky bastard knows exactly what he’s doing, which only increases my annoyance.
“You don’t get to come unless it’s on my cock.”
His voice is low and rough—a mix of threat and promise.He brushes my hair over my shoulder, his lips gently grazing the side of my neck in a kiss so soft it makes my knees weak.I close my eyes, melting into the sensation of his mouth on my skin, every nerve alert and alive.
“If you want it,” he murmurs, his breath a slow drag down my neck, “then fucking take it.Let go on my cock.”
The filthy promise sends a fresh rush of heat spiraling through me.My nipples pebble beneath the lace, my body already aching for more.His hand finds the back of my neck, anchoring me as our lips crash together in a kiss that isn’t sweet.It’s savage.Desperate.All tongue and teeth and hunger.
It’s not sweet.
It’s a fucking storm.
I kiss him like I’m punishing him for every second he made me wait.My hands are already at his waistband, yanking at the fabric until I free his cock.He’s hard.So fucking hard.My hand wraps around him, stroking slowly just to watch the way his eyes darken, his jaw clench, his breath stutter.
