But mostly, I contemplate how long it might take for him to start touching me. Really touching me.
The things I want but can’t say.
‘We could get caught.’ My thought becomes words immediately. But with my back flat against the wall, his body shields me.
‘I don’t think we’d be thrown out for kissing,’ he says between small kisses. ‘Or else half the club would be out on their ear.’
‘Oh, right.’ But I don’t mention the index finger he’s currently skimming low across my stomach.
‘Not that I was planning to stop there.’
‘What?’
‘Put your hands above your head, honey bee.’
The backs of my hands move automatically and slide flat against the dark wall, almost mirroring my earlier dance. His lips touch my forehead as he presses one hand against mine while his other slips deftly under the waistband.
‘Fuck, you’re so wet; I think you could take me.’ I whimper a response so needful, Kit sort of chuckles into the kiss he presses to my lips. ‘You like the sound of that? Spreading your sweetness all over me.’
‘Please,’ I whisper, not sure quite exactly what I’m asking for.Just more. More fingers, more lips, more everything.His nose presses into my hair, and he pushes his fabric covered cock into my hip.
‘Fuck, look at you.’ The lilt of his accent is much stronger now. ‘Just look at you. You’re a thinkin’ man’s wet dream.’
Holy. Rolling. R’s. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any hotter.
‘Y-you can’t say things like that.’ Though I think I might sound more convincing if his thumb wasn’t tapping my clit.
‘I just did.’
‘I... I don’t think it’s much of a compliment.’
‘Oh, contraire, Dr Honey.’ From one nickname to another, though the meaning of this one wasn’t lost on me. I close my eyes as his lips find my neck again. ‘Smart and sexy and so hot for it. What’s wrong with that?’ I can’t articulate an answer. I can barely think. ‘How long does it usually take to make you come like this?’ In a change of direction, his whisper is hot and heavy against my skin.
‘No one usually touches me like this.’
Kit pulls back, his dark gaze staring down at me. ‘He didn’t finger you?’
‘H-he doesn’t—I mean didn’t,’ I add, correcting myself.
‘His loss,’ he growled. ‘Because this is just the start.’
Two fingers press deep inside me, causing me to cry out. Kit kisses me again, pressing awhisperedhushinto my mouth.As his thumb begins petting and moving in small circles against my clit, I push my body against his hand, wanting more pressure.Wanting it all.My eyes are intent on his turned shirt sleeve and his masculine watch. The branch of a strong, tanned arm as it disappears into the darkness of my sweater. The sight is so erotic; it takes my breath away.
This is what I’d longed for while dancing. To be touched like this. To come apart in his arms.
‘Someone could see you like this, riding my hand.’ The images his words create have me arching my back from the wall and pushing into his hand. What would it feel like to be caught? To be watched? ‘Fuck, you like the sound of that. That’s it. You ride my hand. Then later, you can ride my cock.’
‘Yes!’ I cry out as more images fill my head. ‘Yes!’
A door slams somewhere between us and, startled, I jump. But I don’t register much else as he begins to move, his fingers alternately spearing me deeply and curling inside. My legs become liquid as his fingers switch between the two, coaxing and beckoning me on.
‘Fuck, I want to taste you.’ Oh, God. I think my heart just gave out imagining him rolling tongue-fuls of r’s between my legs. Maybe this is what Fin meant about the lure of a Scotsman’s accent? Maybe it’s more than just the way they talk or the things they say. ‘Leave with me. Let me inside you. Let me fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.’
I gasp at his fervent words; his promises blooming and bursting just as I begin to do so myself. My orgasm crawls through me, increasing in its intensity until I’m whimpering and thrashing, desperate to bring my hands down, to pull him to me—to participate. But I can’t. It’s not only my hands pinned as I stare into his eyes, lost in their cool, grey intensity.
The eyes of a wolf.
‘That’s it, honey bee. Jesus Christ, I want to feel this pussy around my cock.’
