“Pfeiffer—Fuck, baby?—”
Come shoots out of my dick in thick ropes, coating my stomach, and she strokes her pussy back and forth along my length, squeezing out every last drop of my orgasm.
Then she stills, both of us panting like we just ran a damn marathon.
Her forehead weighs heavy on mine, her breaths lengthening as she recovers from her orgasm. I want to look down and see the mess we’ve made with our combined arousal, but I also don’t want this moment to end just yet. This raw, carnal comedown that feels a lot like bliss, even when it’s with the person who’s hurt me the most.
I wet my lips before I whisper. Anything louder than awhisper would be too intrusive. “Why won’t you let me put my hands on you?”
Her reaction is so subtle it could be easily missed, but not by me. Teenage trauma fine-tuned my senses so I feel every hitch in a breath, the smallest of muscle contractions.
A pause alone can tell me a thousand things.
She lifts her head to look me in the eye. “I don’t want to answer that.”
My jaw tightens. “Why?”
Her shoulders stiffen instantly. “Because I don’t owe you every part of me just because you got me off.”
The force of her words hardens my chest.
“You think that’s what this is?”
She slides off my cock and drops her legs over the side of the bed. “I don’t know. I think you like control.”
“I do like control.”
She huffs a bitter laugh. “At least you’re honest.”
I rake a hand through my hair. I don't know how to navigate this. All I know is, I want to. “Pfeiffer?—”
“Don’t.” She shifts further down the bed and she won’t look at me. Her attention fixes stubbornly on some invisible point across the room.
Something happened to her. The certainty slots into place like a sixth sense.
“Did someone hurt you?” Just the thought of it makes a coil of steel tighten around my lungs.
Her head snaps toward me violently. “No.”
I stare at her. “Who was it?”
“No one,” she says, her voice thinning. “I just don’t want to be touched.”
“You don’t mind my tongue touching you,” I point out. “My mouth.” I gesture to the puddle of come covering my lower body. “My dick.”
Her face flushes with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
“Please drop it.”
I shift forward. “You freeze every time somebody touches you.”
Her head snaps my way again. “How do you know that?”
“I watch you.”
Those blue eyes narrow. “Why?”
When I don’t answer she turns more fully to face me, tugging her dress over her hips. “Fiero, why do you watch me?”
