I smiled. "Theory. Grace.Miller."
Anger bloomed in his eyes. What happened next was a slow, diabolical, dismantling of me. Targen worked me out of that dress and everything else despite my half-hearted struggles and protests. He left nothing but the waist beads he loved. And then he workedme, his mouth and fingers waging a sensual assault that left me shaking and whimpering... and still fighting.
He kept kissing me all over,slow enough to melt me. Swear the way his tongue and lips played my clit should be studied. But every time I started getting too close, every time my body seized against his on the verge of orgasm, he’d pull back just enough to leave me frustrated and aching.
“Targen…”
“What’s my wife’s name?” he queried.
I moaned weakly. “You so aggravating.”
“And you still ain’t answered me right.”
His fingers teased before easing inside me.
“Theory Miller,” I whispered stubbornly.
And just like that, he pulled away again. The needy sound that left me was embarrassing. He smiled slowly.
“I guess we both frustrated.”
“You keep stopping.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Itisa little funny.”
“Targen! Then stop. Get off me,” I ordered petulantly.
He chuckled as his thumb circled my clit.
“Nah. You don’t get to fuck with me then act surprised I wanna play, too.”
My breathing turned ragged. I was losing this game, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to win anymore.
“You mine,” he murmured against my mouth.
My eyes fluttered shut, my hips rocking against his skillful fingers.
“You hear me,malyshka?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your name, then?”
I swallowed hard, still stubborn, still caught up in this game.
“…Theory Miller.”
He groaned against my neck. “You an evil little thing.”
I smiled a little despite myself.
“Move your hand,” I said, praying he didn't.
He did, just long enough to replace it. I moaned as the incredible length and girth of his dick filled me. A smug smile curved his lips as he began to fuck me in long, deep strokes.
