“What do you think, Mae?” My name on his lips threatens to consume me. I try to turn around to face him, desperate to feel his tongue on mine, but he holds me tightly against him.
“Uh-uh,” he says, denying my nonverbal request. “You need to look like you’re sitting in my lap and only sitting here. I don’t want the other princes to see how much I make you squirm.”
Both of his hands find their way to my thighs and force them apart. He holds my thighs down while he rubs his erection against my center. The sensation feels amazing, and I let out a moan. My pulse is erratic.
“I think you do want me. And I think you hate it,” I say, focusing on my words.
He doesn’t respond to me. Instead, one of his hands releases my left thigh and wraps around my waist again, holding me tightly to him, while his other hand drifts lower and closer to my center. He teases me, running his finger along the seams of my underwear, curling a finger and lifting the seams, but never actually touching me. His left hand leaves my waist and wraps around my neck.
He has absolute control over my body right now.
“What do you want, princess?” he whispers against my neck.
I rock against his length, desperate to ease the tension that’s threatening to undo me, but his right hand doesn’t come any closer.
“Please,” I say, feeling close to begging.
“Tell me what you want,” he mutters against my neck, two fingers splayed across my center but neither finger touching the areas I’m desperate for them to touch.
“Touch me,” I grind out.
His left hand drifts upward and underneath the bottom of my bralette.
“Touch you here?” he whispers, his hand now underneath my bralette and cupping my breast.
I shake my head once. His thumb finds my nipple and strokes it, sending flames to my core. “Here?” he whispers again. “Or here?” he asks, his two fingers splayed against my underwear, pressing down, tightening the fabric there, and applying some pressure, but not nearly enough.
“Please, Asmo,” I say, holding back a moan.
His right hand finally cups my center. I instantly rock against it. I can hear the others across the pool shouting and celebrating as they push each other into the water, but I don’t care. All I’m focused on is the feel of him behind me, under me, and finally on me.
His finger finds that bundle of nerves, and he rubs in slow circles over my underwear. The feeling is intoxicating, and I’m struggling not to completely come undone in his arms, struggling to hold in my moans at the feeling of his finger expertly rubbing in slow, torturous movements.
“Asmo,” I groan, arching my back, but he pulls me flush against his chest, cutting off the movement.
“If I see your back arched while you’re sitting on my lap, I don’t care who’s around. I will lose what little sense of self-control I’m still holding onto,” he mutters into my ear. “Do not test me, Mae.”
He finally, finally slips underneath my underwear, drags his middle finger from my throbbing center, and circles my apex. I’m panting again, fighting the urge to grind against him. My hand reaches down to feel his erection, but he stops it with his left hand, pinning my hands to my stomach.
“It’s my turn, princess,” he says, his hips grinding into me.
“But—" I object.
“No,” he says, biting my neck, holding my aching body against him as a wave of pleasure rocks through me. “Can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself?” he asks me.
I nod quickly, not entirely sure that’s the truth. His left hand releases my hands and spreads my left leg further. His thumb finds my apex while his right hand moves and slides a finger inside of me, slowly pumping and curling inside of me while his thumb slowly rubs that sensitive bundle of nerves. My head feels like it’s buzzing, and I feel my orgasm building. I’m already so close. I ride his finger, and he adds a second one, his pace quickening.
I whimper, desperate for more. He adds a third finger, and the finger on my apex moves even faster. My entire body seizes at the feeling, waves of pleasure rolling through me. I let out a squeal, then clamp my mouth shut.
“That’s it, princess,” he whispers in my ear.
I ride his fingers through my orgasm, his erection twitching against me the whole time, only adding to my pleasure. When the final wave of pleasure rolls through, my body relaxes against him. He removes his hands from my underwear and returns them to wrap around my waist, but his erection is still firmly pressed against me.
I look back at him now, twisting in his lap. His eyes are glazed, and the look fills me with desire all over again. “Asmo?” I ask, my voice low, sultry. Steam rises between us.
His lips are perfect, pink, and full, and I realize that although I just rode his fingers, I’ve never even kissed him. I can’t look away from them, imagining his lips between my legs.
“Yes?” he asks, his eyes now focused on my mouth. His voice is low and rough.
