His hand tightened, cutting off my breathing entirely. I didn’t think he meant to do it intentionally as he stared at my lace bra, likely imagining the man touching me without consent.
My face burned red in the mirror, and I reached up, attempting to pry his fingers off for a moment of relief.
My touch must’ve brought him back to the present, because he immediately loosened his grip.
I sucked in air, breasts—though small—nearly spilling out from the top of my bra as I gulped.
As my lungs worked, savoring their ability to breathe, he moved my hair over my shoulder. His behavior was confusing; one second he was pestering me about my day, the next he was protective, and then he was choking me.
Talk about whiplash.
And they said women were the complicated ones?
The hand he’d used to shift my hair moved south,fingertips brushing a lingering drop of water down my cleavage.
He held me prisoner with his grip on my neck. Both of us were infatuated with where his touch moved, watching intently in the reflection.
“If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to force it out of you,” Henley hummed, mouth far too close to my ear. His breath sent goosebumps tingling down my spine.
He moved past my breasts, down my stomach. His thumb caught on my sheath as he glided over my skin.
When his fingertips ghosted the waistband of my skirt, I grabbed his wrist, halting him.
Our eyes met in the mirror once again. His showed starvation, mine greed. He wanted to feel me as much as he wanted to know what I’d done today to warrant this meeting. And as a girl with a needy pussy due to my failure of a vibrator, I wanted nothing more in this moment than to accept.
Did an orgasmreallyever make a situation worse?
Probably not.
With force—because I was impatient—I plunged his hand into my skirt. His fingers easily slipped inside my panties, finding my clit with no trouble at all.
Thank God he knew what he was doing.
I held my whimper back as he started circling the bud. After forfeiting my orgasm this morning, I was all kinds of worked up. I had no doubt this would end quickly, with his clear expertise and my desire to come.
“Have you been a mess since this morning, little killer?” Henley murmured in my ear, fingers sliding through my slit to feel how wetI was.
I managed a nod despite his hand holding me in place. “It’s not because of you, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
His grip on my neck tightened in punishment, reminding me how easy it would be for him to cut off my breathing for a second time.
Why did I want him to?
Two fingers plunged inside me, and I groaned.
“What a dirty fucking slut, walking around with all this between your legs.”
My lips parted as I inadvertently leaned into him more, the back of my head resting on his shoulder. My back arched as he tilted my chin back, exposing more of me to him in the mirror.
With hooded eyes, I watched my leather jacket part, putting my bra on full display. He visually devoured me as he fucked me relentlessly with his hand.
His thumb pressed to my clit, eliciting a moan from me.
So much for holding those in.
Right as my breathing sped up and my core began to tighten, he yanked his fingers out and the pressure on my clit disappeared.
I nearly wept.
