Her jaw tightens, but her body betrays her, hips tilting, chasing friction. “I wish…” She swallows hard, every syllable fighting its way out. “I wish I could go out there… with you. Be by your side. Holding your hand.”
My grip on her throat tightens—not a choke, just pressure, a reminder. I inch back to watch her. “Again.”
Her lashes flutter. “I want to stand next to you,” she breathes. “I want everyone to know that you’re mine. And I’m yours.” The last word snaps, all snarl and heat.
The sound that leaves me isn’t a laugh. It’s darker, hungrier. My forehead drops back to hers. “That’s it,” I whisper. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
“Then fuck me,” she pleads, voice splintering. “Now. Please.”
I still my hand, slick fingers hovering over her clit, so close it hurts both of us. “No.” My thumb drags once, a deliberate slow circle, a reminder of who’s in charge. “You don’t get what you want until I can have what I want.” I kiss her forehead. “Fair is fair.”
Her eyes flare, outrage breaking into disbelief. “No?”
I let my teeth graze her jaw, dragging down her neck, slow enough to make her shiver. “You think I forgot how you’ve been denying me?” My restraint frays with every word. My fingers hover at the edge of mercy. “Out there, I had to stand politely while their hands crawled over me. Pretend it didn’t make me want to grab you, pull your body against mine, and let every single one of them know I’m taken. Let them know that I have a woman in my bed every night—the most incredible, kind, gorgeous woman I’ve ever known. The only one my cock gets hard for. The only one who makes me whole. The only one who makes me happy.”
My fingers start moving again before I even register it, circling harder, faster, until her hips rock and she’s saying my name under her breath, over and over.
“The one I’m in love with,” I rasp against her cheek.
Her eyes snap open, wide and stunned, head flying back. “What?”
She reaches for my hand, but I’m faster, catching her wrist midair and pinning it above her head against the wall. She gasps, but doesn’t fight me. Her other hand stays limp at her side.
Maybe she’s stunned.
Maybe she’s savoring every second.
Her breath stutters. But I can feel the pulse between her legs, frantic against my fingers.
“And since I can’t have what I want…” I ease my touch back, leaving her clit aching, pussy clenching around nothing. “… you don’t get what you want either. You don’t walk out of here with my cum dripping down your thighs, Trouble. You don’t get the wetness of each step, reminding you who claimed you. If I can’t walk out there with your hand in mine, you can’t havethateither.”
She whimpers, wrecked and furious all at once, thighs trembling in front of me.
“Well, actually, youaregetting something you wanted…” I let it linger, unfinished.
“What the hell are you talking about, Preston?” she hisses, breath sharp, hands balling into fists.
“Edging is on your list, baby. Remember?” The peck I lay on her cheek is far too innocent for the timing.
I drop to my knees anyway, tugging her jeans down until they puddle at her ankles. My palms push her thighs as open as they will go, spreading her until she’s bare and shaking under my hands.
“But I will walk out there with your taste on my lips.That much, you don’t get a choice about.” Then I bury my face between her legs.
My tongue strokes slowly from her entrance up to her clit, relishing every drop she made for me. I circle her clit without pressure, barely ghosting over it, watching her twitch with frustration. When she bucks forward, I give her a shallow suck. Enough to make her gasp, far from what she needs to come.
My finger slides inside, finds the swollen ridge of her G-spot, and teases it with the lightest strokes, more taunting than touching. Her hips roll, desperate, chasing more, and that’s when I pull back, my mouth hovering, breath fanning her without giving her what she so desperately wants.
Her whole body riots against restraint. One hand claws at my hair, yanking, trying to force me closer. The other scratches at the door for purchase.
“Please…” she moans, her voice breaking, chest heaving as her head thuds back against the wood. “That’s not what I call fair at all.”
I hold her still, my grip unyielding, drunk on the way she trembles at the edge becauseI’vedecided she stays there. It’s a high unlike anything else—her wildness caged under my control, her surrender straining against her defiance, all of it mine to play with.
I flick my tongue back over her clit, paced teasing laps, then suck just hard enough to draw another ragged cry. My finger strokes her G-spot again, gentle and by the looks of it, infuriating too. I control the rhythm, the depth, and the denial. Every sound she makes pours fuel on the fire in my veins.
Her head falls back, teeth sinking into herbottom lip, another broken noise spilling out of her. She’s wrecked, caught between surrender and rage, her whole body pleading while I keep her hanging. And I smile, drunk on her, on this power, on the fact that she lets me take it.
One more long, obscene lick, drinking all I can. Then another, savoring, branding her on my tongue.
