If he thinks I'm not already, he's wrong. I'm so wet, it's ridiculous. And so turned on, I'm ready to explode.
"Please," I groan.
"You're so sweet when you want to come," he hums against my skin.
"And you're an ass when you won't let me."
His teeth sink into the side of my throat in a punishing bite I feel against my clit. My hips lift from the island before he drives them right back down, forcing me to stillness beneath him.
I want to grab him by the hair and drag his mouth to mine, but his eyes are fixed on me, daring me to move first, and I can't—I won't.
This doesn't feel like a battle, though. It doesn't feel like surrender, either. It feels dangerously, wildly addictive. That should probably terrify me, but with his hands on my body, I'm not afraid. I'm just here with him.
Maybe that's what makes it so dangerous. He's slipping past my defenses, silencing the alarm bells that should be ringing to warn me away. And I'm not doing a damn thing to stop him.
His hand slips beneath the band of my panties, sliding downward. "Just checking to see if you're dripping for me yet," the arrogant bastard murmurs as he presses two fingers to my slit. There's no teasing, just the heat of his skin and the shocking rightness of him touching me.
I gasp, my back arching.
His eyes go dark as he feels how wet I am. "Goddamn, Jasmine," he rasps. "How long have you been like this for me?"
"Days," I whisper, unable to keep the truth to myself. I think I want him to know that, while he's been here, I've been across town, dripping wet for him.
His whole body shudders, his lips curving in a pleased, feral smile. He presses his thumb to my clit, circling it once, twice, until my hips jerk in his grip. Each pass is torturous, and he knows it. He watches my face the whole time, cataloging every shaking breath and every little moan I can't hold back.
"Spread your legs for me," he says, his voice tight. "Let me see you."
I'm already spread wide, but I open further, my thighs trembling. He flicks my panties to the side, exposing me completely, and I almost lose it right then. His eyes lock on my pussy, a growl rumbling from his lips.
"Christ, look how pretty."
He runs a finger along my slit, then slides it inside me, curling it just right. The sensation is so intense I whimper, my hands scrabbling for purchase on the slick granite.
He thrusts, slow at first, then faster, his thumb never leaving my clit. I can't breathe. I can't think. All I can do is clutch his wrist and ride the waves he sends through me. There are so damn many of them, threatening to rip me apart and make me something else entirely. He isn't even inside me yet, and he's already changing my whole damn world, just flipping it upside down.
"River," I pant, my voice breaking.
"Come for me," he commands. "Let me feel it."
I shatter with a cry, clenching around his fingers. My whole body shakes, but he doesn't stop. He just keeps working me until I collapse against his chest, gasping for breath.
Before I can even come down, he lays me back on the island, his hands supporting my weight so I don't crack my skull on the marble. As soon as I'm settled, he bends, burying his face in my pussy.
I nearly scream from the overstimulation. It's too much and not enough at the same time, but I don't want him to stop.
He licks and sucks, then flicks my clit with his tongue in relentless circles. He wants me to come again, and he isn't going to stop until I do.
"Come on my face, princess," he murmurs. "Let me taste your pleasure."
I lose it, my hands flying to his hair, gripping tight as I grind against his mouth. He groans, the vibration sending me over the edge a second time.
When he finally pulls away, his lips are wet with me, his eyes wild. He straightens, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and grins down at me.
"I want to feel that on my cock," he says, his voice a gritty rasp. But there's a question there, too. Like he's asking for permission.
"What's stopping you?" I ask, spreading my legs wider, daring him to do something about it.
He doesn't hesitate to accept the dare.
