“Uh-huh.” Wider. Wider. Until her heels hug the edge of the lounger.
She tips her face to the sun as my hands glide from ankle to knee and higher.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” I say, parting her flesh for my gaze. “And you’re all mine.”
9
LAVENDER
“You’re all mine.”
Bought and paid for.That thought shouldn’t turn me on, but it does.
He wants me at any price. Doesn’t he know that I should be paying him?
Or maybe not, if he’s going to do what he did last time.Left me pulsing and empty and crazy for him.
“So fucking pretty.” The hungry longing in his eyes echoes the needy pull between my legs. I should say no and push him away, but Lord alive, it’s all that I’ve been thinking about since he kicked out the suits. It’s probably a good thing ours wasn’t a church wedding because I’m pretty sure the Almighty would’ve smote me well and good for the thoughts I had at the altar.
I can’t be held solely to blame. Not when Raif has the kind of attitude that deserves to be smothered.By my pussy, say.
I watch as his head seems to tip in slow motion, his mouth a wet press to my inner thigh. I try so hard not to twist away at thesucking pull, only to gasp as he presses his teeth to my flesh with a low growl. His fingers trail up my ribs. He palms my breast. Squeezes. Then he slides the triangle sideways to expose my rock-hard nipple.
“Well, look at that.” As his thumb glides back and forth over the sensitive peak, I find myself reaching for him.
“Please,” I whisper, arching from the lounger. I need this. Need him.
“Wait.” There’s hint of grit in his instruction. I close my eyes, giving into the sensation of my bikini top sliding, catching on my hardened nipple.
Cold metal presses between my breasts, and my eyes spring open to the softschnickof fabric.
“That’s better.”
The blade in Raif’s hand folds silently into the hilt.
“You… do you always carry a knife?” My question is tremorous.
“You never know when an envelope might need opening.”
“You owe me a new bikini.” Out of all the things I might’ve said, this seems to amuse him.
“Add it to the list.” He presses forward, pulling the strings of white Lycra from my neck. His mouth hones on my nipple, his tongue obscene as it circles. Flicks.
“Oh!” My body bows, pressing into the hand he slides between my legs.
“Princess, you’re so wet for me.” My body offers no resistance as his thumb slips inside. “So warm and so fucking slippery.”
I try to push up, to deepen the contact, when he suddenly takes my nipple into his mouth.
“Oh…fuck!” I whisper the hard fricative as his long middle finger pushes inside. His groans vibrate against me, and I feel my body greedily contracting around him. “More,” I demand hoarsely. “I need more.”
“I’m going to make such a meal of you. Until the yachts in the bay hear your cries.”
“Please…” I pant as his finger slides tauntingly in and out.
Slick. I sound so slick down there.
“Are you begging me, princess?”
