Page 86 of Aftershock
“I remember asking you something first.” He tugs on my hair, pulling my head to the side to grant him moreaccess. His lips kiss, graze, and tease my skin until I can hardly think straight. “Lilith.”
“I’ll answer later.” My jaw, my cheek, my temple—they all tingle under his attention. Shamelessly, I grind my ass back against his cock. My arms go up to his neck. “Promise. After I have you.”
“You’ll have me when you tell me”—snapand my jeans button comes undone—“if you want dinner or not.”
“Fuck,” I hiss as he lowers the zipper. “Okay, fine. No dinner. Please.”
He makes a low, satisfied sound in the back of his throat. It’s husky and hot, reaching straight to my pussy.
I’m so high on him that I roll my hips, whimpering every time I feel him throb against me. But then Alaric’s finger slides over my panties and settles on my clit. I cry out, my need echoing off the high ceilings of his apartment.
That gets me a guttural, sexy growl. With his mouth pressed to my neck, I feel every vibration, and my raw nerves light up.
“Please,” I beg like I swore I never would again. Alaric isn’t Mom. He’s everything she’s not. It’s safe to relinquish control to him. “Please.”
“Lilith.”
“What?” I ask, hoping he’ll saybend overor something even filthier.
What comes out of his mouth instead is, “No, I don’t cook,” as he slides his finger under my panties.
This man is on a mission to make me lose my mind. “Can’t we talk about it later?”
“Patience. You’ll like where I’m going with this.” His fingertip trails lower, leaving heat and goosebumps in its wake as it brushes over my lips. “I have my meals delivered. They’re pretty good, actually. In case you change your mind about dinner.”
“No.” An electric shock jolts me when two thick fingers spear my center. My heels fly off the floor. “Regrets.”
“I could get you wine, or water with it.”
He curls his fingers inside me. Finds that spot that swells beneath his touch. Tears roll from my eyes, dropping onto my sweatshirt.
Not because he’s careless. Because he isn’t touching me the way I need him to. He’s being so infuriatingly gentle.
More begging rushes past my lips. I’m rewarded with the heel of his hand pinned to my clit, but that’s it.
That’s.
It.
“I could set the table for you.”
“No.” Unable to control myself, I writhe on his fingers. “No dinner.”
“Sure about that?” The darkness in his voice doesn’t scare me. I feel so safe that it turns me on. “It’s good. It’ll taste better if I put a small piece of potato on my fingers. Shove them between your lips. Feed you.”
“No.” His cock. His maddening lips. That’s what I want. “You. Being rough. Like you took me in the alley. Not food.”
As much as I love that he’s been considerate and careful over the past three days, I’m in a different place now. I ache for the ruthless man I know is in there.
“What if…” After gathering juices from my sex, he starts stroking my clit at a slow, torturous pace. “You have dinner in the living room with your legs spread…” He darts his tongue out to lick the crook of my neck, and I whimper. “Naked and soaking my face while I eat you out.”
Fuck me, that’s beyond tempting. My body melts at his dirty words, my legs wobbling.
But my pussy is swollen and empty. Painfully, horribly empty.
“Your cock. I need you to f-fuck me.”
“You’re so pretty when you beg.” Finally, his fingers rub me faster. Send me high, high, higher. “We’ll have dinner later then.”
