An icy, late autumn breeze blows through the cracked windows and I shiver in his arms, my own still bound behind my back.
He licks a line down my throat, then pulls back, and jerks his chin, glancing down.
“I’m going to let you go for one second. You’re going to pull those pants down. Everything else, too.”
My lips are parted and I’m breathing hard, my breasts needy between us. I want him to cup them, pinch my nipples, slap at me like Sylvan did.
“Do you understand?” he asks quietly, staring at me.
I nod once. “Whatever you say,” I gasp.
A wicked smirk curves his lips. “Good girl.” Then he releases me, and his hands come to my breasts as if he read my mind.
I tip my head back and groan as I lift off my knees. It takes me more than a second to push down my sweats, my underwear, then shift my knees closed to get them to my ankles. My face warms at being half-naked in front of him, even in the dark, when he’s completely clothed, but when I glance up at him, he’s staring down at me and panting, like heneedsto taste me.
When I’m done, the scent of my wetness between us, I straddle him again and right at the moment I’m settled, he jerks my wrists behind my back, holding me with one hand.
Then he stares down at me, spread and bare before him.
He bites his bottom lip and groans, but he trails one hand from my nipple—pinching lightly and making me gasp—down my sternum, my belly, toward my wet cunt.
He cups me, glancing up at me like a man possessed.
“Fuck.”
Then he pushes two fingers up inside me.
I clench around him, back arching, nipples sharp points and my body like a livewire.
My eyes close for a heartbeat, and he bends his wrist back and grinds his palm to my clit.
“This how Connor did it?” he asks, his voice low.
Warmth forms on my neck, but I open my eyes and stare down at him, his fingers inside me, his hand circling my clit.
“Yes,” I gasp.
His eyes darken.
He pushes another finger in, like he wants to punish me by stretching me around his thick fingers.
It feels so fucking good.
“Ride my hand, Neve.” It’s a command. I imagine it’s how he speaks to his team, what he’s like when he’s in charge. Quiet, cold, firm. A way that makes it impossible to disobey. You just don’twantto.
But…
“Ineedto touch you,” I gasp out.
He tilts his head, and his smile. “Oh?”
He’s taunting me.
My cheeks flush hot and I know they’re red.
If only it was Sylvan. Maybe he wouldn’t notice my blush.
“I can’t balance well if I?—”
