Underneath me, something turned hard against my pussy.
His cock.
He was erect. Growing harder every passing second. In response I became wet. Our two sexual organs surged into each other through the fabric of my underwear and the fabric on his sweatpants.
“Is this…” I wriggled, heat pulsing through me. “Is this turning you on?”
He cleared his throat. “This is…kind of a fantasy of mine. Sorry, I’ll focus. I’ll try to focus.” Groaning he shifted his head in the pillow. “I'll try to think about cat’s or something.”
The press of his cock against my tingling wet made me grind against him. I pushed down, needing to feel the pressure of his cock against my most delicate area that ached to be touched.
Dig pulled his head up, probably to try to look at me through the dark. “Princess, what are you doing? Are we fighting or flirting?”
“Sorry.” I stopped grinding against him. “I'll try to focus too.”
“No,” he whispered. “You want it, don’t you?”
“No—yes—” I made sure I kept the blade firm against his neck.
He lifted his hips up and slowly grinded his cock between my open legs, giving me a sample of what I truly had been wanting.
Pure bliss sparked up from my open legs, I grinded back, closing my eyes, living in that single second that could have destroyed me. He moved again, rolling his hips, ensuring his massive erection pressed into every area between my legs, sparking the heat in me to turn into a furnace.
I lost a breath; I lost the knife.
“No!” Panic struck me down as I let the knife handle go.
Dig snatched it from where it had fallen and placed it back in my hand and helped me hold it back under his throat. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Don’t be scared. You’re in control.”
I swallowed down a shuddering breath.
He placed his hand back on my ass, giving it a soft tap. “Take it, take what you want.”
My wet need rampaged through any clarity I had, and I ignored Dig Graves assisting in my holding him hostage and listened to my desire. I grinned against his erection as I held the knife across his throat, taking this for myself. I did it again. He grabbed my ass cheeks, holding them as I moved. I dry humped over him again and again, building the heat, building the sweet tension.
As I grinded, feeding into my needs, one of his hands roamed up, under my t-shirt and cupped my breast, giving my nipple a flick. After his testing touch, he pinched my ass cheek just short of drawing pain and I bowed into the touch, a silent plea for more.
Under me, with my knife at his throat and my body claiming his hard cock, he laughed.
“Careful now,” he warned.
“Careful? Oh!”
He grabbed my waist and flipped me onto my back on the bed, keeping my knife locked under his throat, he settled himself between my legs, forcing them open for his pelvis to fit. He pushed his erection right into my pussy and left it there, leaning over me on his forearms. He was careful to keep his weight off me; my breathing turned into huffs.
Like this, our faces were close, our breath mixed, I felt the tickle of his black hair shedding down his cheeks and brushing against my own.
I swallowed, fixing the knife to sink against his jugular, keeping it there.
“What are—”
“Shh.” He picked up my leg and wrapped it around his back. “It’s okay.”
I was trapped like this, but it was he who had the knife at his throat. We were both trapped. Trapped together. “What are—”
“Don’t be scared.”
“But… what are you doing?”
