“Better?”
“Nope.”
“The people who write this stuff are liars,” he mutters, tossing the novel to the side, and I shriek when it almost falls to the floor.
“Do that again, and the penis gets it.”
“Forgive me, mistress.”
His back slides lower against the wall, just enough to adjust our angle for what comes next. Despite the completely inappropriate conversation, I’m ready for him.
His hands grip my hips, and I brace myself for him, but instead of pulling me down, one of them slips between my thighs. When his fingers approach my center, my whole body goes rigid. This isnotwhat I planned. I’m about to tell him to skip straight to the mainevent—preliminaries werenotpart of this questionable arrangement—but some strange curiosity roots me in place.
My eyes stay locked on his as he slowly finds my core, gathering wetness before pressing gently on my clit. His thumb circles once, and my body jolts like I’ve been shocked. His other hand clamps around my thigh, holding me open for him.
Then he pushes two fingers inside me, and the intrusion has a sharp, involuntary whimper clawing its way up my throat before I can swallow it down.
My own fingers are now grasping at the sheets as I struggle to keep my eyes from closing, desperately reaching for some semblance of control. He’s working faster now, more insistent, and it has me losing my grip.
His eyes keep flashing from my face to between my legs and back again. I think it’s the hottest thing I’ve seen in a while.
My hips buck against him, and I have no idea whether I’m grinding back and forth, or whether he’s moving me with his other hand. All I know is I’m blinking so fast I can barely see, and he’s good, he’s really good, I’m nearly there, nearly done when—
“Do it, Carrie,” he whispers.
What? It’s like a needle skipping off a record. I stare at him and frown. He’s got that look on his face, the one he gets every time he’s about to come out with some dumbass comment, and I can tell he’s picking up on the fact that I’m getting the ick, because he turns things up a notch, kneading my hips, pressing harder with his fingers. The feelings all come flooding back as I let myself fall into the moment again, and—
“Come for me,baby.”
Oh. My. God.
“Are you for fucking real?” I yell.
I shuffle off his lap and grab his arm in an attempt to pull him off my bed, but he’s not budging an inch, and as he throws backhis head and starts to laugh, my mind suddenly fills with images of cold-blooded murder.Okay, funny man… I should crush his balls for this.
I struggle to my feet, swaying a little as I tug down on my shirt, shaking off the last of my failed orgasm.
“What’s the big deal?”
“Get out!”
“Oh, come on!” he protests. “I couldn’t resist—”
“Get the hell out!”
“You can’t blame me for wanting to try it at least once,” he says. “It’s like a book-boyfriend classic.”
I look up at the skies. “Why me?”
“Well, I can’t try it out on arealgirlfriend, can I?”
Bitch, please!
I glare at him, folding my arms over my chest. “Quit the laughing, or I’m throwing your sorry ass out on the street.”
He jumps out of bed and reaches me in three quick strides, his jeans still hanging open.
“Keep that dick away from me!” I scream.
