“All f-for you.”
“I know.” I thrust my fingers deeper, curling them while letting my thumb find her clit in slow circles. “And I’m gonna make it worth the wait.”
The bed creaks under my weight as I shift behind her, curling my body around hers, my fingers working her open. “You gonnacome for me like this? With my fingers choking your pussy while I tell you all the ways Carter can’t fuck you like I do?”
Her moan is high-pitched and desperate as her hips rock against my hand.
“Because he can’t, Hewon’t.He’ll hold you. Praise you.”
She whimpers.
“But me?” I shove deeper. “I’ll make you sob for it. I’ll keep youright here—“I slow my fingers “—until you beg me like you mean it.”
“Tate —please—”
“That’s not begging, pretty girl.”
I bring her to the edge three times and pull her back every time. I let her fall into my rhythm, riding my fingers until she’s trembling in my arms, her nails digging into the sheets. By this point my cock is throbbing hard in my shorts, but right now is just for her.
When her voice finally cracks—“Please, Tate please just let me come, I need it, I’ll do anything”—do I give it to her.
I choke her softly with one hand while the other plunges inside her until she’s moaning into my hand that now covers her mouth.
“Tate, I’m g-going to cum.”
“I know pretty girl, soak my fingers and show me how much you’ve earned this.”
Then I kiss her temple like I just handed her a sunrise as she comes down from the high. No one will ever fuck her like this, and part of her knows it.
Her breathing is still uneven as she blinks up at the ceiling like she’s trying to remember where she is.
I ease my hand away from her mouth, my thumb brushing over her cheek instead.
“I… I’m gonna go shower.”
I huff out a small laugh, dragging my hand down her side before letting her go. “Yeah. You should.”
I lean back against the headboard, watching her as she stands, grabbing her clothes from her dresser.
The bathroom door clicks shut behind her a second later, and the sound of the shower turning on fills the quiet. I drag a hand down my face, exhaling slow.
Fuck.
One minute I’m coming off the best morning of my life, Haven limp and satisfied under my hand.
The next my fucking PC decides to perform its own exorcism. “No. Nope. No, no,no—you goddamn heat-bricked bastard.”
I slap the side of the tower, hard enough to rattle something loose or lodge it deeper into hell, who knows. The screen in front of me stays frozen on a mid-action frame of my masked face, mouth wide in what was probably a snarl or a smirk. Now it just looks like I’m possessed.
Which I might be, because this shit iscursed.
“Tate?” Haven calls from the kitchen. “Everything okay?”
Carter’s ducking into the room, probably sensing the drop in air pressure from my rising fury. “What the hell did you break this time?”
“My goddamn GPU,” I snap, crouching to rip the panel off the side. “Or the power supply. Or maybe my fucking soul, hard to tell.”
“You look like you’re about to fistfight it.”
