Page 110 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
Good.
My hands cupped her hips, and I dug my fingertips into her soft skin, taking a moment to appreciate the lush roundness of her curves and the subtle scent of her and the barest trace of lavender.
She shivered.
“Delaney,” I whispered softly, but kept my voice firm. “I plan on breaking you apart with mind-numbing pleasure, then slowly putting you back together piece by piece tonight. Are you good with that?”
She nodded emphatically.
“And I’m going to trace over every inch of your body with my tongue until I’ve memorized what makes you shake, shiver, and moan. What drives you crazy and makes you scream.”
“Yes to all of those things,” she replied in a breathless whisper.
“Choose a number from one to five.”
Her eyes fluttered open. Those dark green eyes that had been driving me insane for months, were now heavy-lidded with suspicion. “What? What does that have to do with anything?”
“You didn’t listen earlier.” I kept my voice even, like I wasn’t already losing my mind down here. “Pick a number. To determine your punishment.”
“Fuck,” she muttered. Then, “Four. What are you going to do, spank me?”
I laughed—actually laughed, low and genuine, because of course that’s where her mind went. “No. We’ll save that conversation for another night if you’re interested. But since this is our first time together, I’ll let you choose.”
“Between what?” The suspicion had sharpened into curiosity.
“I can edge you four times and only let you orgasm on the last one.” I watched her face. “Or I can give you four orgasms.”
She groaned like I personally offended her. “The orgasms. Obviously the orgasms. Four! Marc, who would choose the other thing?—”
She was about to learn that either was a double-edged sword. “Stay still,” I said, “Or I will stop.”
Her legs trembled with the effort of trying to comply. I could feel the tension in her thighs, the way she was fighting her own body for control. The sight of her working that hard—to be still, to be good for me—hit me all at once.
Focus.
“Please.” Her voice came out lighter, a little strained. “Please, Marc. I need you. Do something, anything.”
“I like hearing your pretty lips beg me.”
I pressed my mouth to the inside of her thigh—the thick, soft part that drove me crazy. I bit down lightly, just enough, and when she gasped and rolled her hips, I filed that away.
Slowly, I licked toward the crease where her thigh met her hip, then stopped. Felt her frustration spike before she made a sound.
“Kingsley,” she growled.
Just my last name. Those two syllables put me on notice, and it took genuine effort not to abandon this plan entirely.
“What, Hart?”
“Touch me. Please. For the love of God—your hands, your tongue, your nose for all I care?—”
I pressed my face into her hip to hide my grin. Only Delaney. Only this woman would be negotiating intimacy like she was filing a complaint with management. I placed a single kiss to the top of her pussy, and her whole body tightened in anticipation. Part of what I wanted—the thing I’d been turning over in my head since we began—was to take her completely apart. To make her feel so thoroughly looked after that she had no room left for that sharp-edged armor she wore most days.
I wanted her boneless. And I wanted it to be my doing that caused it.
I ran one finger slowly through her seam and felt her inhale and hold it.“You’re so fucking wet, Delaney. Such a good girl.”
At my words, she whimpered, and more of her wetness slid from her entrance.
