Page 31 of The Count
He shrugged, seemingly focusing on his work. His chest pressed out hard with each exhale. “I never said I was or wasn’t. You know what you need to do to make this end.”
How had someone who’d been in prison so long learn this level of control? Must be gifted I mused trying to shake off the lust, the sensation bombarding me. I could get off like this but it wouldn’t be as satisfying as squeezing around him as I let go. Still. I wouldn’t say it.
I lay back, and arched my arms over my head to dig into the covers.
“Is this enough for you?” He asked. His gaze still pinned where our bodies met.
Not only teasing now, but mocking me. I opened my eyes again to look down between us. His wrist was clenched tight, his entire body drawn out like a bow string ready to strike or snap at the slightest pressure.
I could be that pressure. With gentle caresses, I trailed my hands over his broad shoulders, down to his waist. And before he could make a move to stop me I cupped his balls.
He exhaled loud and hard and it was so fucking satisfying to see that careful control break. Fuck me, he did. He flipped me over onto my belly, dragged my hips up, and rammed into me with a grunt.
I held onto the pillows, put my fingers back where he’d been touching, and let him ride me into the coverlet. He pumped into me over and over, my face pressed into soft cotton. I couldn’t breathe but right now, I didn’t even need to. My orgasm tripped with his and I came screaming into the covers while he grunted heavily behind me.
I sagged down. He let go of my hips then smacked my ass hard.
When I yelped he said, “you deserved that.”
I rolled over so I could look at him. “Deserved what? A good plow. I did deserve that. Thank you.”
He went to swat my ass again and I rolled away.
“Cheeky fucking woman,” he muttered. He moved away from the bed in a rustle.
I snuggled into the blankets now a cradle to the exhaustion washing over me. The quicker he learned I never backed down from a challenge the better.
Twelve
Mercy
Iwoke with no idea where I was. It didn’t particularly concern me, it happened every once in a while. I didn’t take men back to my place. As the morning light seeped in, my focus cleared, and I stared up at the pale gray ceiling of Will’s room.
Last night felt different. We had talked, like adults, and then fucked like teenagers. We played. I couldn’t remember the last time I played with a man in the bedroom. Not since…
On that thought I rolled over and climbed out of bed. Will’s side sat cold so I dressed and went to find him. He’d parked at the dining room table already. Bacon and toast remains littered his plate.
He glanced up when I sat down. The bacon and eggs was as delicious as ever. If I didn’t get out of here soon, I’d need bigger clothes. And what would he do then, with a bloated doll who doesn’t fit into her gowns?
“You were snoring so I didn’t want to wake you.”
I mumbled through a full mouth then swallowed. “No problem. All that walking around last night got to me.”
“Should I be offended…”
I shrugged and couldn’t help but smile. His tone was light and playful and I couldn’t get a read on him. A line bisected the space between his brows and he kept the newspaper between us like a shield. No, I could read him and his cute tone was the act. I put my bacon down and prepared for whatever I did this time.
“Tell me.”
He looked over the paper. “What?”
“I did something. You’re upset, or angry, or something.” I waved at his coiled posture and the paper. Which he snapped shut the second I motioned at it.
There we go. Down to business. “For the record, I don’t like games. I’d rather just get down to business. Say what you need to say”
In an abrupt turn, I could hear the fury in his voice now. “I’m more of a show instead of tell kind of man. Get dressed. And we can discuss the problem in the car.”
He slapped the paper on the table and I ate my bacon as he stalked away. And he called me dramatic. I ate at the pace I wanted and dressed in a fitted pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He stood outside my door when I exited.
