Page 30 of The Count
I forced neutrality to my face. “There’s a big difference in wanting this, and wanting you.”
His eyebrows told me he wasn’t convinced. “Of course, silly of me.”
He appeared calm in the low light, but the slight tremor in his fingers told another story. Maybe he wanted me—this—too.
Finally, after what felt like hours, he scooped my bottoms down my hips and thighs. “Take off your shirt.”
I wiggled out of the thin cotton material and threw it toward the direction of my pants.
He lifted me easily, and tossed me a measure up the bed to make enough room. I swallowed heavily at the sight of him crawling between my wide spread legs.
If this was his idea of punishment, I didn’t know how he’d expect me to behave afterward. Or maybe that was the point.
The hairs on his legs bristled against my inner thighs. He leveraged his body over mine and aligned our hips. His cock glanced over my mound and I focused on staying still, even though I hovered on the verge of grabbing him and fitting him inside myself.
He dipped his head to my ear. “Say you want me. Admit it and I’ll push into your tight little box and give you everything you want.”
Anger jangled through me like I put my tongue to a nine volt. “Are you teasing me for a reason?”
He narrowed his eyes, looking down at me now. “Maybe, I’m just a bastard. But I still want to hear you say it.”
I tilted my hips up into him, “and if I don’t say it?”
He slid backward, breaking all contact, leaving the ache to grow stronger in his absence. “If you deny me, you deny yourself.”
Heat radiated from everywhere as he licked his lips and stared me down. Then gripped himself hard at the base. “You underestimate me. I spent twenty years in jail.”
With intent, he slapped on a lazy smile and locked his eyes to mine. I couldn’t look away from the long glide of his hand up his shaft, and back down.
“Anything you want to say?” His eyes held the challenge, and I never backed down from a fight.
I shifted side to side on the bed to snuggle into the soft sheets. They smelled of him, like spices and wood smoke. I continued holding his gaze while I slid my hand down my belly over the short curls at the apex of my thighs and in between. His eyes shot there immediately, and I opened my legs as wide as I could hold them. “Nope, I’m good.”
“Now whose teasing?” He said, a little breathless.
I slowly circled my clit with one finger and watched his face. “I’m not teasing. You were invited to join me. You’re the one who wanted to go over there and handle things yourself.”
Instead of firing back, he bit his bottom lip and looked down the length of my body like he could put marks on me just with his eyes. Nothing on my skin, but I felt the weight of that look. It caused me to circle my clit a little faster. My body yearning for him to fill it.
My actions spurred him to stroke himself harder. A wicked cycle we’d created. Who would come first? Would they win or lose?
I drew my hand down and inserted a finger inside myself. It set him off. He lunged toward the bed, between my legs and angled his dick right over my clit. “Say it,” he whispered.
“No,” I said, even as I arched up into him.
“No.” He used the head of him to rub right on the spot which sent shivers through me.
“No.” I repeated.
He arched his eyebrow. I wrapped my hands up around his neck, and bat my lashes.
“No it is then.”
He didn’t enter me. For a moment, I thought he would do it anyway. Give us both some relief. Instead he peered between our bodies and watched as he took up a steady rhythm on my clit. Massaging with his cock instead of his hands. And God damn it, he knew what worked.
I squirmed hoping he’d slip lower, and touch me where I needed. He even batted my hand away when I tried to reach between us to give myself a little something more.
“You are a sadist now too.”
