“No, I refuse to give up. I am going to convert you. I am going to ensure you’re ready for Z-Day. And you are going to stop staring at my tits and watch the movie instead. You promised you’d watch the whole thing with me.”
“You’re going to hold me to that, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she said with a crisp nod.
“Then I’m going to get more comfortable.” Casual as you please, he slid his hand into her panties and slipped two fingers inside her, making a shocked breath stutter out of her. He almost groaned at how delightfully wet she was. He’d known she would be. The scent of her need perfumed the air, both soothing and arousing his cat.
Feeling all that liquid heat made Camden want to pump his fingers hard and fast until she came all over his hand—something which was fast becoming a favorite pastime of his. He loved feeling her come apart around his fingers. Loved watching her face and hearing her moans or screams when her orgasm took her. It would never get old.
He’d finger-fuck her tonight. Eventually. He wanted to tease her a little first. He liked to get her all worked up—she came harder that way.
As such, he didn’t move his fingers. He didn’t even so much as swirl them. He simply kept his hand right there.
At first, she remained still. Waiting. Expectant. But the squirming quickly began. Initially, it was only a subtle hint for him to get to work. But when he still didn’t move his hand, she bucked and writhed, trying to pleasure herself on his fingers.
Inside, he smiled. His woman had no patience in this area. Which made him want to play.
Camden brushed his lips over her nape, loving how it made her shiver a little. “Hmm, I wonder …”
“Wonder, what?”
“How well you can follow instructions.”
Aspen blinked. Instructions? What did that mean? More importantly … “Are you planning on putting those fingers to good use?”
He licked a bite he’d left on her neck. “No.”
She had a feeling he’d say that. “You’re a teasing bastard.” Her bearcat nodded, in full agreement. The animal’s sleepiness had vanished when he began his little game.
He put his mouth to Aspen’s ear and flicked the lobe with his tongue. “I’m not doing this to tease you. This isn’t for you. It’s for me. I want to feel my pussy squeezing my fingers.”
“And when exactly did it become yours?”
“The first time I pumped my come inside it.”
“I am not seeing how—” She cut off with a jolt when he nipped the sensitive tip of her ear.
“Shh, no more talking. You don’t say a word.”
She twisted her head to look at him, frowning. “Why not?”
A wicked glint entered his eyes. “Because toys don’t talk.”
A shiver danced down her spine, and little bumps rose on her skin. Worse, his words made her inner muscles flutter … which he damn well felt. So the haughty little sniff she gave him before facing forward wouldn’t have fooled him at all.
Being referred to as a toy probably should have pissed her off—and maybe it would have if she didn’t know he respected her.
“You also don’t get to move,” he said. “You stay very still.”
Because toys didn’t move, right.
Sadly, the skilled fingers inside her didn’t move either. His free hand did, though. His touch light and soft, he dragged his fingertips down her throat, glided them over the swells of her breast, and ghosted them over her bra-clad nipples. Then he began doodling circles on her inner thighs, moving higher and higher each time.
She wouldn’t have thought such gentle touches could feed the flames of her arousal so potently. It wasn’t easy to stay still. Especially when two fingers were filling her. She ached, burned, for more; for the fingers inside her to give her what she needed.
He growled into her ear. “You’re soaking wet right now.”
Surely that couldn’t be a surprise to him. Sharp teeth clamped around her earlobe, and there was no stopping her body from reacting, no hiding from him exactly what affect it had on her.
He hummed. “Your pussy spasms every time I bite you. My cat loves it when I mark you. He wants me to bite harder. So hard you bleed. Even scar. And then you’d always wear my mark. Always.”
Hearing him say such things should absolutely not rev her engines. But it did. A lot. Oh, help.
“A shifter should only let their mate permanently brand them, I know. My cat doesn’t care about that, though. Neither do I. Hmm, I wonder where I’d leave the brand.” He stroked a spot high up on her inner thigh. “Maybe right here, so whatever fucker claimed you would never forget I had you first, and so he’d always remember you belong to me as well. He’d probably cover it with his own brand, wouldn’t he? It wouldn’t matter, though. Because every time he looked at that brand he left on you, he’d remember why he put it there. He’d remember I have my own claim to you.”