Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)

Right now.

“Will,” I whine. “Please.”

He smirks. “I know, baby. But I’m not done.”

Bastard.

I can’t cope with the sight of him on his knees, looking me dead in the eyes as he eats and fingers the life out of me. He twirls his tongue tentatively around my clit as I watch.

“God, I hate you,” I whimper.

I s

tart to tremble.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” He jams another finger inside me, curling harder. Shit.

He won’t back down until he gets me off, and somehow, that fact alone spurs me over the edge. The pressure builds up in my stomach, my orgasm rolling through me at full force. Hell-bent on making it unbearable, he grips my ass and sucks my clit firmly into his mouth. The sensation is so intense I have to bite my lip not to scream—not moan. Scream. Thank God we’re home alone.

I was never the loud girl in bed.

Until now.

Until him.

Slowly coming back to my senses, I shudder uncontrollably.

Holy motherfucking fuck.

I could get used to this.

Wiping his mouth, he rises to his feet and withdraws his hand, but not without giving my body one last, unexpected pump.

Cocky as ever, he places a light kiss on the corner of my mouth and whispers, “Now, I’m done.”

I hope he’s going to give me a break. Allow me to catch my breath before we get down to business, but he clearly has other plans. Grasping the back of my thighs, he lifts me up into his arms and props me against the wall again.

He smiles at how comatose my orgasm left me and folds my legs around his waist himself, so unbelievably hard I can feel him strain through the stretched fabric of his boxers. He smashes his mouth to mine, not giving a single shit that he was eating me out a few seconds ago. I see him reach for something on my desk. A condom.

When did he even put that there?

“Do you want t—”

“Yes. Yes.” I pant. “Just stop torturing me.” I rock against the swelling in his briefs, and he gives a jerk forward, responding to my body without meaning to. A satisfied grin on his lips, he tugs his underwear—the last thing standing between us—down, tearing the condom packaging open.

I watch as he rolls the latex down his length and guides himself closer, sliding between my lips and teasing my already sensitive clit. He moves back and forth, torturing me, shifting near my entrance without ever taking the last step.

“Will, you’re killing me.” I squirm.

“Not just yet,” he says, gaze locked onto where our bodies meet.

Fuck this shit.

Done with his games, I brace my hands onto his shoulders and give myself a push. In one move, I take him.

All of him.

We both gasp as I sink down onto him. Will because he wasn’t expecting this turn of events, and me because of how large he is. He stretches me painfully, an unwelcomed reminder of how long it’s been since the last time I had sex. His eyes flutter closed at the feeling. The look on his face makes the pain worth it.