"I don't know how."
"I can help you."
He trails his hand down my neck and then over my chest, toying with my nipple through the thin material of my t-shirt. I hold my breath while he lingers there, rolling the point between his thumb and first finger, his eyes locked on mine in the dark space, and only exhale when he releases it.
But that hand continues roaming over my body—down my stomach before dipping inside my t-shirt and then under the waistband of my underwear. I gasp when his fingers find my pussy, gliding over my wet center, petting me—applying just a little bit of pressure to my clit, tracing my entrance without pushing inside me, and then slowly repeating the sequence.
"Dax…" I start. "I don't—"
"Shhh," he says, brushing my hair away from my face with his other hand. "Turn it off, Saige. Just relax; I know it feels good. I know what I'm doing. Your pussy is so soft and wet. Fuck…" His thumb circles my clit with the kind of precision that causes me to whimper, whether I want to or not. "It's all I've thought about since I came down your throat. Open your legs a little more for me."
I almost listen. My head is swimming; I barely stop my knees from falling apart. I don't want to fuck Dax, but he's right—my mind is turning off. And Nolan told me the best thing I could do is distract myself.
Dax's fingers are distracting. I've had his dick in my mouth; I'm sure that would be distracting, too.
"What if I don't want to?" But my words come out as more of a sigh than anything else. I bite my lip to keep from moaning.
"You're soaking wet, baby. I bet you were wet that night, too. You certainly sucked me like you were enjoying it."
I don't know if it's his words or the way he's touching me—maybe both—but before I can stop myself, I roll my hips against his fingers.
"You like it when I pet your pussy?"
"I-I don't know…"
"We're going to fuck, Saige. There's no point in putting off the inevitable. This is what you agreed to, and like I said, once you stop trying to fight it, I think you're really going to fucking enjoy it." With his free hand, he coaxes my knees apart before two thick fingers push their way inside me.
"Oh, fuck…"
One corner of his mouth turns up. "So what do you think, Saige?" He leans over me, pulling my top over my head, revealing my bare chest, while he increases his pace, his fingers fucking into me faster. "Do you still want me to stop?"
"N-no." My toes curl, and I cry out again. "Oh, my god."
"You're tight. Does that feel good, baby?"
"Yes…"
My hips writhe against the bed as he works me, my fingers clawing at the mattress.
"Listen to you—listen to how wet you are," he rasps into my ear. "I told you I'd make your pussy feel good."
He lowers his head, sucking my nipple into his mouth as he turns his wrist a little, curling the two thick fingers pumping into me. Whimpering, I wrap a leg around him, my back arching off the bed, his fingers working me closer and closer to the edge while he flicks my nipple with his tongue, toying with the other with his free hand.
He plays my body with expert precision, and I'm so close. So fucking close.
His thumb finds my clit, and I cry out as I explode, pulsing around his fingers, my legs shaking. I'm so relieved, so simultaneously overwhelmed that tears well in my eyes as the orgasm rolls through me.
The rational side of my brain tries to tell me this is wrong. But I can't listen to her. I need this—I need the distraction.
It's the only thing that's felt good in days.
When my legs stop shaking, he removes those fingers, then leans over, taking something from the drawer in the nightstand. Then he pulls off his boxers and kneels between mylegs, tearing open a condom and working it over his long, hard shaft.
He'd be beautiful if he weren't pure evil.
My heart pounds as he hovers over me—all hard muscle and tattoos, fully erect. His fingers hook into the side of my underwear, working them down my legs before tossing them aside.
Then he lowers his body on top of mine, bracing himself with one arm while the other hand fists his cock, guiding it toward my entrance.
