“What do you want me to do?” I repeat. “I can’t go back and undo what happened. I wish I could. Trust me, I do, but I can’t. I’m sorry, okay? I’m so fucking sorry about that night…” My words catch, and I pause to swallow the ball of emotion in my throat that seems to keep growing. “You can hate me all you want, but it won’t change what happened.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off mine as he strides toward me. My brain wills me to move, but my feet won’t cooperate. His eyes are dark and inscrutable as he reaches me, and when he sets a hand on my hip, all of my wires cross. My body obeys when he walks me backward into the stall I just came out of. With his free hand, he reaches back to shut and lock the door.
Despite my muddled thoughts, my lips finally part to question him, but when my back hits the wall next to the sink, and he leans his face down to mine, the only thing I can do is gasp. I shut my eyes and brace myself for the kiss. My pulse spikes when his hold on my hip tightens, and I feel his breath against my lips. When he doesn’t do anything, my eyes fly open.
“I don’t hate you, Josslyn. I hate that despite everything, when I think about you, I only remember the way your pussy clenched around my fingers and the sounds you make when you come.”
He brings a hand up and cuffs it around my neck, moving the other slowly from my hip down to my thigh. He grips me there and squeezes my throat as he leans in. The combination of his touch and his light beard prickling my cheek sends a sharp shiver through my entire body. He nips my earlobe, eliciting a soft moan from me, and my body arches, pressing his thick length hard against my stomach. He hisses at the movement, grip tightening. With the fury I see in his eyes, I should probably be afraid he’s going to strangle me to death. Tit for tat and all. Somehow I know he won’t, and honestly, I’m not sure I care if he does.
“I hate that I can’t remember what you taste like, but I knowhaving your pussy against my mouth is the closest to heaven I’ll ever get.” His grip loosens and I gasp in a breath. “I hate that I want to do it again.” His grip tightens again. “Do you ever think about that night?” He pulls back slightly, searching my eyes. The smug expression on his face tells me he clearly knows the answer. “Do you get wet thinking about the way you choked on my cock?” He squeezes my throat and lets go again. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
A ghost of a smirk tugs his lips. “Did you ever shut your eyes and pretend it was me you were fucking instead of your boring boyfriend?”
My eyes squeeze shut, my breath coming out in soft pants now. I hate how much I crave it. When he squeezes my throat and lets go again, my eyes fly open and I glare. “Yes.”
His dark chuckle vibrates through me. “I bet you’re soaked right now.”
“Finn,” I plead shakily. “Please.”
“Sweet, perfect little Josslyn. Do you even know what you’re begging for?” His grip loosens, and I realize he’s right.
I don’t know what I want. It’s definitely not for him to let me go. I want him to do … something. Anything. That’s always been my problem in the bedroom. I don’t really know what I like, and men … well, men are naturally selfish beings. They usually don’t ask. Finn didn’t ask either, though, and everything he did to me was utter perfection. I realize he’s waiting for an answer from me, but I don’t know what to say. I just want him to do something to alleviate the throbbing between my legs.
“Please.”
“You’re going to have to be specific.” His grip tightens again when he brings his mouth a breath from mine. “Do you want me to walk away?”
I shake my head as much as his hand will let me.
“Do you want me to finger your pretty pussy right here?” he rasps, as I bite my lip to hold back a moan. “Do you want me to taste it?”
“Yes,” I pant, back bowing at his teasing words. He pulls back, raising an eyebrow. “Yes to any of it.Allof it. Please!”
His eyes darken, and he makes a satisfied hum in the back of his throat. He moves his hand from my hip to the bottom of my dress and slips it underneath, inhaling sharply when he finds me bare. He pinches the hood of my clit and my entire body shudders.
“Fuck, birthday girl. I knew you were naked under this, but I didn’t expect you to be soaked.” His fingers leisurely move between my folds. When he flicks my clit, I gasp loudly, bringing my hands up to grip his bicep. “Were you like this before I walked in here or is this for me?”
“For you,” I breathe, hating myself for admitting it, for being this wanton.
“I should drag you downstairs right now.” He bites his lip for a moment, sliding a finger between my folds.
“Oh, fuck.” I grind against him, and he makes that satisfied sound again, dropping the hand around my throat to replace it with his mouth.
“I should fuck you in front of all your stupid friends, so they can watch the girl they treat like glass shatter around my cock.” He flicks my clit again, sucking and licking the dip between my clavicles when I moan and throw my head back. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I bite my lip, trying and failing to keep another moan from escaping. I’ve never been to the speakeasy sex club here, nor have I heard anything about it. It’s that secretive. I’ve definitely never been interested in having an audience watch me have sex, but I can’t deny that his words turn me on even more. Suddenly, his hands leave me and he takes a step back.
I set a hand on my chest as I try to catch my breath so I can plead with him not to leave me like this. It’s embarrassing, but right now I don’t care. He drinks me in slowly, biting his lip like he’s savoring the sight of me like this. His throat moves as he visibly swallows, and that alone makes my core clench.
“Hike your dress up to your waist.”
My pulse spikes again. I look down and do as he says, slowly, careful not to rip any of the delicate strings it’s made of.
“Fuck,” he says quietly. “Set your foot on the counter.”
“I…” I hesitate as alarm bells go off in my head.
