Page 42 of Forbidden Fruit
“Can I tie your hands together?” he asks, eyes nearly black with want.
My mouth goes dry. I’ve dreamed of being tied down, fantasized about it, but never had the guts to ask for it. I nod, but he raises a brow, gaze intense.
“Words, Blair. Use your words.”
I roll my eyes, pulse pounding. “Yes. You can tie my hands.”
His mouth curls into that wicked smirk I both love and loathe. “Brat.”
He takes my wrists gently but firmly, wrapping the silk tie around them with practiced ease. The sensation sends a shiver down my spine.
“I am not?—”
I don’t get to finish the sentence before he tugs sharply on the tie wrapped around my wrists. I stumble against his chest with a gasp, breath stolen by the sudden pull.
He doesn’t flinch. Just levels me with a look that makes my knees weak.
“Are you going to be a good girl and earn as many orgasms as your body can handle—” his voice dips, dark and deliberate. “— or do you want to keep acting like the brat you are and get none?”
The way he says none, like it’s a real threat, sends a ripple of panic through me. He would. He really would fuck me senseless and not let me come. That is my horror movie. I haven’t had a proper orgasm in way too long to risk that kind of torture.
“Fine, I’ll be good,” I whisper instantly.
“Good girl,” he says and heat floods my chest. The praise, the control, it’s too much and not enough. I sink into the mattress as he gently lowers me, and I swear I could come just from the way he looks at me.
With excruciating slowness, he peels off my shorts and pink lace panties, eyes devouring every inch. Then he stops.
His gaze catches on the tattoo on my upper thigh, and for a moment, he just stares.
“Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath, almost reverent. His fingers reach out and trace the ink, roses, and soft green leaves curling delicately along my skin.
“Fucking beautiful,” he says, like he’s looking at a work of art.
“Thank you.” I got the tattoo on a whim last year, walkedinto the shop on a random Tuesday, and picked it from a flash sheet. I didn’t know it would make me feel this seen. This… desired.
But the way he touches it makes me grateful I did.
Calvin leans over me, capturing my lips in a lingering kiss. Simultaneously, one of his hands explores the wetness between my thighs. I groan in his mouth when I feel his fingers at the place where I most want him, gradually circling and playing with my clit. “Already so fucking wet for me.” I shift my hips further up, my lust insatiable; I need him to be inside me. “Don’t be greedy or you won’t get anything,” he warns, lightly tapping my pussy. I’m so wet the sound of my pleasure fills the room.
“Okay… I’m sorry, please,” I beg, my voice trembling with a mix of desire and desperation. I’m not above begging; after the teasing I’ve endured these past couple of weeks, I can’t help but want more.
He groans as he slides a thick finger inside my soaking depths. Waves of pleasure course through me, causing my back to arch involuntarily. A gasp escapes my lips as he adds another finger and then a third while his thumb presses harder on my clit, intensifying the sensation. I feel full to the point where it hurts a little. He drags his other hand around my neck and squeezes it, making it hard to breathe. “Eyes on me. Do not take them off me,” he commands. “I want to see your eyelids flutter when you shatter for me.”
Everything happens so fast, too fast for me to fully grasp what’s going on until it’s too late. The pleasure builds quickly, and before I know it, I come embarrassingly soon, waves of bliss crashing over me.
“That’s it, give it to me, give me what’s rightfully mine… hmm, that’s my good girl,” he says, sucking a nipple into his mouth while his fingers keep pumping in and out, drawing out my orgasm. He is everywhere at once! How can he be everywhere at once?
Oh God, I should stop this.
He’s going to ruin me, ruin me for any man who comes after.
No one will ever compare. No one will ever be enough.
Because Calvin Stirling is an undoing.
And I don’t think I’ll survive him.
“You should see how perfect you look when you come on my fingers,” he breathes, voice thick with satisfaction. His words ignite another wave of heat low in my belly, even as I gasp for breath, still shaking from the force of my orgasm.
