Red Thorns (Thorns Duet 1)

Torture.

Plain sadism.

“Were you ready for me, Tsundere?” he rasps near my ear, still tugging on my nipple, twirling, stimulating.

“Ready for you?” My voice is too breathy and strangled, as if I’m relearning how to articulate properly.

“You left these tits uncovered because you wanted me to feel them.”

“That’s…not true.”

He swipes his thumb over the peak, back and forth, controlling my shattered breathing until it matches the rhythm of his. “But they’re ready for me. Can’t you see how much they want my mouth on them?”

Sebastian releases my face and starts to lift my hoodie. My insides burn red hot and my stomach quivers when his knuckles brush against the burning skin.

The thought of him seeing my breasts, actually touching them without a barrier, sends me into a spectrum of chaotic emotions. The swells of my breasts peek from underneath the material, my sickly pale skin contrasting against the black of the hoodie.

Sebastian strokes an index finger over the bottom swell, causing my thighs to clench. The view of his masculine finger and the tone of his skin against the paleness of mine steals my focus.

“Look at how creamy and big your tits are, Naomi. The cheer uniform doesn’t do them justice.”

His words trigger pressure against my most intimate part and I can feel myself letting go, allowing him to do whatever he likes with me and my body.

No.

This will blow away every wall I’ve spent years building.

Every barrier and layer I’ve carefully wrapped around myself since that red night.

I don’t know how I do it, but I grab his wrist and push it away, then jerk up so I’m not caught under his spell anymore.

That doesn’t stop the manic rise and fall of my chest or how my nipples still burn to be touched.

It doesn’t stop my illogical need for more or how my skin twitches for it like an addict going through withdrawal.

Sebastian remains on the sofa, legs wide, appearing a bit too comfortable. Strands of his sandy hair fall in a beautiful mess over his forehead and darkened aqua eyes.

“In case you forgot, I won, Tsundere, and with a KO at that since you moaned three times.”

I suck in an unsteady breath, praying that my skin isn’t reddening. “That still doesn’t give you the right to grope me.”

His tongue peeks out, moistening the edge of his upper lip. I find myself imitating the gesture, recalling how that same tongue felt curling around mine, sucking and dominating.

“You liked it.”

I snap my attention back to his, internally shaking myself. “Or maybe you think I did to satisfy your dick-shaped ego.”

“I didn’t know you thought about my dick’s shape, Naomi.”

“I don’t.”

“You just proved you do.”

“It’s a figure of speech, asshole.”

“My asshole, too. No wonder they say the quiet ones are the wildest.”

“I’m anything but quiet. I just don’t like to talk when it’s not needed—which is most of the time.”