“Mm,” he hums, catching my wrist and pressing a kiss to my palm. “And yet you’re still here with me.”
“Debatable,” I reply, trying—and failing—to sound unaffected.
He leans in again, stealing a soft kiss this time, slower, teasing.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he says against my lips.
“Oh, really?” I murmur, brushing my nose against his. “And what makes you so sure?”
His hand settles at my hip, firm but not forceful, grounding.
“Because you keep kissing me back. And because your pretty pussy is positively soaked, Cookie, just begging me for attention.”
I want to say something sassy back.
I really do.
But he’s not wrong.
And that only makes him cockier—stupid, sexy Tiger.
He chuckles, low and pleased, before kissing me again—deeper this time but still threaded with that same playful edge.
And it hits me, right then—this isn’t my usual sexy time experience.
The laughter.
The teasing.
The way it feels light and intense all at once.
I didn’t know it could be like this.
Didn’t know you could laugh in between kisses, could feel this giddy and wanted and safe at the same time.
It feels new.
And maybe a little dangerous.
But I don’t pull away.
Not even a little.
And when he finally spreads my legs apart, fitting himself to my dripping entrance, I can’t deny the rightness of this.
I’m on fire for him.
Tingling from my head to my toes.
His glowing blue eyes are locked on mine as he presses his body fully into mine.
He’s big.
And thick.
And even though I’m wet, it’s a tight fit.
“Gods, you’re so tight,” he growls. “That’s it, Cookie. Let me in.”
