“You’re fucking soaked,” he growls as he grazes my clit with a calloused finger. A low sound of pure need escapes my lips. He pauses at my opening. I tense, trying to close my legs, but he has them pinned open. “Trust me,” he mutters.
A little of my passion cools as I shake my head. “I can’t.” Those feelings of inadequacy—that I am broken and unlovable—rear their ugly head.
He jerks his head back. “You don’t trust me?”
“I do, but I think I’m broken, Fox.”
He shakes his head, and his gaze softens. “You are not broken, Cleo. If something hurts more than it feels good, let me know, and I’ll stop. Okay?” Nothing ventured, nothing gained—so the saying goes. I nod. He sighs like he was holding his breath, and it’s at that moment I realize how important my trust is to him, how vital my consent is.
“Relax,” he demands. That tone sends a spark of desire through my body as I obey. He circles my entrance again and again, bumping against my clit with each pass. He alternates between kissing me and gazing down at where his hand is causing a beautiful chaos in me.
Fox slips the tip of his finger inside, and the sensation steals my breath. “You okay?” he asks as the hand around my throat squeezes.
“More,” I beg.
He gives me a wicked smile and presses a little deeper. There’s no pain, just an aching need to be filled. Fuck. I can’t remember the last time I felt that—and I’m sure it’s never been this strong.
“Greedy, just like you kiss.” His thumb makes agonizingly slow circles around my clit, making me want to scream in frustration. Then something vibrates against my hip.What the hell?
“Fuck,” he says as his hand snakes between us and drags out his phone. “I need to get this. Don’t fucking move.”
“Seriously?” I snap. He’s taking a call? Now? What the fuck?
“Trust me, I wouldn’t answer if it wasn’t important.” He flicks the answer button as I blink at him in disbelief as he snaps, “This better be urgent, Larry.”
I’m being edged for some dude called Larry? No. Not happening. My hand falls between my legs, and I gasp at how wet I am.
Fox’s gaze narrows. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he hisses at me. “No, not you, Larry.”
I smirk as I bite my lip and push the tip of my finger inside, making my breathing stutter. Damn, that feels good. Not as good as Fox’s hands, though. I arch my spine and press my ass tighter against his cock.
He grunts and taps the mute button. “If you come, firecracker, I will teach you the true meaning of the word edging.”
“Is that meant to be a threat?” I whisper as he returns to his conversation and snaps a few more words at Larry. His gaze flicks from my hand buried in between my legs to my face. I’m so close. I just need…
Fox’s hand tightens around my throat, and my pulse skyrockets, blocking out everything but the heavy thrum of my heartbeat in my ears. “Don’t,” he warns. The bands snap tight inside me, then my vision darkens, and I explode. My eyes fly open as I start to come down. “Did you enjoy that?” he asks, his phone discarded on the ground next to us.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Good. We have about a twenty minute journey home, and in that time, I want you to decide.”
“Decide what?”
He urges me up and to my feet. He collects the blanket and phone, stuffs them inside the backpack, and grabs the cooler in one hand. He spins to face me and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.
“How you want to deal with your hymen. My fingers, your fingers, a toy, my cock. Tick tock, Cleo. It’s time to teach your body it is far from fucking broken. In fact, you will come harder than you ever have before from a little danger and fear. Darkness exists in you, and I’m answering the siren call. So choose. You have twenty minutes, or I’ll decide for you.”
Well, fuck.
CHAPTER 37
FOX
Decisions, decisions.
There’s a storm rolling in. Rare for this time of year, but fitting as my emotions clash inside my chest. The sky darkens as the car eats up the road toward home, giving Cleo enough time to consider if she wants this. And if she does,howshe wants it. Falling into bed with her might test her limits, but it’s breaking all of mine. I need to come clean about my situation to her soon. Cleo’s definitely not on the ‘lay low’ plan. I think fate threw us together—two souls meant to heal the wounds of the other.
She grasps the edge of the seat as I take the corners a little too fast for comfort. I chuckle and increase the speed, making her slam her eyes closed and shriek at me to slow down. Taking pity on her, I do as she asks, and she releases a breath before crossing her arms over her chest.
