Pretend You're Mine (Inked Hearts 3)

Slowly, I stand.

I watch him through the mirror as I slide my panties off my ass.

I keep them around my thighs as I roll at my hips.

There. My fingers touch the ground.

I’m on display for him.

He lets out a low, appreciative groan. “Come here.”

I rise. Step out of my panties. Turn and slide onto his lap.

I grind against him.

Only his jeans in the way.

And, fuck, the friction of the denim against my clit—

“Mmm.” My hand knots in his hair. I stare into his eyes as I draw figure eights with my hips.

He stares back, as needy and desperate as I am. “How long is this dance?”

“Three songs.”

He shakes his head.

I nod. It feels so good, torturing him, pushing him to the edge.

Watching desire fill his eyes.

His hand goes to my inner thigh.

Fuck, I want that.

But not yet.

I take his wrists. Bring both hands to my chest. Lean down to whisper in his ear. “Watch.” I motion to the mirror as I turn.

He does.

He stares at our reflection as I grind against him.

As he toys with my nipples.

As he pushes me to the brink of what I can take.

The song shifts into the next. It’s softer. Slower.

I match its pace, but it’s torture.

My sex screams for attention. For him.

He’s so fucking hard.

The chorus fades into the verse.

Into the next chorus.