Sweat broke out across her chest, down her spine. Just when she crested the ridge, just as orgasm beckoned, Chase eased up, drew his wet fingers from her pussy, and stroked his whole hand over her sex. The pressure against her clit made Zahara buck.
Chase bent his head and watched his hand move over her. Sweat glistened on his forehead and cheekbones. His fingers moved lazily, sweeping back and forth over her swollen sex, brushing the strip of hair directing him to her clit.
“You’re all juicy and hot.” There was a knowing in his tone. A confidence. Something that said, I’ve got you exactly where I want you and you’ll stay here as long as I say. He was in control of her body, and he knew it. Loved it. Thrived on it. “After you come, I’m going to eat you.”
His tongue slid over his bottom lip. The sight coupled with his words made her sex clench. He felt the movement and smiled. A lusty smile. “I’m going to tongue fuck you and suck you dry. God, I can’t wait to taste you.”
That both thrilled and terrified her. She pulled against his hold.
“Uh-uh.” He looked down at her, his eyes glittering with lust. “This is way too good to rush. Spread your legs for me.”
Her stomach jumped.
When she didn’t immediately obey, he gave her a one-sided, borderline haughty smirk. “You know you want my fingers inside you.”
This was a side of him she’d never expected. Fear niggled in the back of her mind. Exposing herself to him this way, knowing they’d work together again—it was reckless. And Zahara was the opposite of reckless. She was steady and cautious and in control. Always in control. But this tryst wasn’t making her feel any of those things.
She fought against her unfounded fears. This was Chase. Chase. She knew him. Cared about him. Even loved him on some level. He was her friend—and now, her lover. And that was okay. He had her back. He wouldn’t hurt her. Wouldn’t judge her.
“You’re doing it again,” he said, his voice low with warning. “Stop thinking and spread your thighs for me.”
His words electrified her. Still, she wasn’t sure if she liked his bossy side. But she did know she wanted him. So she spread her legs wider.
He rewarded her with a nuclear smile and penetration so deep, her entire body arched off the couch. The sounds coming from her throat didn’t sound like her own. Needy, guttural sounds that expressed both pleasure and shock.
And once again, just as the first shudder of prerelease rocked her body, Chase pulled back. Slowed down. Teased her. Taking the long, winding road to the peak. With orgasm out of immediate reach, Zahara’s strength waned, and she melted against the cushions, fighting to catch her breath.
This wasn’t at all the way she’d seen the night going. By now, she should be spread across his lap, rocking his world. Instead, they were both still mostly dressed, and she was as close as she’d been to a mind-bending orgasm in way too long with nothing but fingering and dirty talk.
“You need it, don’t you?” His voice was rough, his breathing choppy.
“Sounds like you need it too.”
He grinned, a hot, wicked flash across his face. “Oh, I do. I really, really do.”
He tilted his head down to watch his hand, hiding beneath her slip of panties, doing things she never imagined would make her want to beg. When it came to men, she kept herself firmly in the take-it-or-leave-it camp. Yet, here she was, ready to scream if he didn’t make her come soon. Then again, she’d never been fingered to oblivion with limited means of changing a man’s focus either.
“But I’ve been waiting for this for what feels like forever,” he told her. “I want to know every fucking inch of you, and watching you come apart at the seams is such a wild turn-on, I can’t help myself.”
He pulled his hand from between her legs, and Zahara almost whimpered at the loss. Then he brought it to his mouth and sucked her juices off his fingers. The sound rolling in his throat, the look of bliss on his face, made Zahara restless again.
“God, you taste sweet.” He slid his hand between her legs again, as smoothly as if it belonged there, and pushed back in with two thick fingers, stealing her breath.
He was back to teasing her, creating light friction with shallow, quick thrusts, never pushing deep enough or hard enough, to tap that spot that made her twist inside out. Still, he was close enough to give her a hint of the pleasure they both knew he could deliver, and just like the Pavlovian dog, Zahara’s mouth watered in anticipation.
“Sweet and hot.” He spread his fingers and stretched her as he withdrew. “Wet and tight.”
“Chase—”
He growled, dropped his face against her throat, and closed his whole hand over her pussy. With two fingers inside, the rest curling into her flesh, he shook her body hard. She cried out, unsure what shocked her more, the raw manhandling or the wild pleasure it rocketed through her entire body.
She couldn’t catch her breath. Couldn’t stop her hazy mind from spinning. He stroked her again, his thrusts rough and deep, but languid, pausing when he was as deep as he could get, then did…something. Some mysterious move that made Zahara’s back arch off the sofa, made her mouth drop open, made her thighs fall open in abandon.
He moved like he already knew her body. Like he had every hot button nailed. Like he knew exactly how to steal her breath and cut off any attempt to take control again. Because right now, Chase had it. All of it. All of her. Literally and figuratively in the palm of his hand.
“Please, please, p—” As soon as she heard herself begging, she clenched her teeth, cutting the words off and groaning instead.
“Jesus,” he said, his breath quick and hot. “You’re spilling all over my hand.”