“That’s your final stance?”
Challenging him is such a sweet temptation. What will he do? Wrestle me into agreement? Kiss me into oblivion? Make love to me until I spill my deepest secrets? I look forward to every option. Better still, I hope he’ll resort to all three of these techniques.
“Yes, it is.” There’s no hint of hesitation in my voice, but as his smile morphs into a devilish grin, I wonder if I didn’t make a mistake.
“You asked for it,” he announces.
Eric tightens the grip on my wrists with one of his hands, bringing the other to my breasts. Then no kissing or wrestling or lovemaking follows.
He tickles me. The bastard actually tickles me. I erupt in laughter as he tortures my armpits and the sides of my boobs. Damn it. To hell with all of it. Who is ticklish on their boobs?
“Stop,” I shriek between bursts of laughter. Far from obliging me, Eric continues to tickle me.
“Have you changed your mind?”
I barely hear him over my own laughter. I’ll be damned if I don’t hold my ground, even though I might faint from laughter. Is death by laughter even possible?
“No,” I say eventually.
“Then I won’t stop.” His damn fingers continue to torment my armpits, driving me bananas.
My hips buck off the bed and collide with his.
“Fine, fine,” I confess. “I was thinking about sex.”
Instantly, he lets go of my hands, falling beside me on the bed, laughing alongside me.
“You play dirty,” I accuse after regaining my breath.
“If it means I get my way,” he replies. Turning on one side, he props his head on his elbow. “Coercing you into confessing wasn’t the only reason for the tickling session.”
“You had an ulterior motive in that evil mastermind of yours?”
“I like your laugh, so I made you laugh,” he says, dragging the back of his hand up and down my cheek.
His words warm my insides. “That wasn’t laughing. That was shrieking.”
“True,” he admits. “With a few pig-like snorts in between.”
“I do not snort.”
He lifts an eyebrow, and I sigh.
“Okay, I do, but a gentleman wouldn’t bring that up.”
Cupping my jaw, he pulls me close to him until our lips almost touch. “I’m no gentleman.” He touches the hinge of my jaw and then my lower lip with the pad of his thumb.
“So, you woke up with sex on your mind.”
“You know, words spoken under duress shouldn’t count,” I say.
He tugs at my lower lip with his teeth for a brief second, setting all the nerve endings on fire. “So, say you beg me to kiss you the next time I make love to you. Should I discard those words too?”
I blush. “That’s something else.”
“Double standards. I see.” Shifting back, he drags his tongue over the skin between my breasts, then nuzzles one of my nipples. He swirls his tongue exquisitely slow, as if he wants to savor every lick of my skin. I want to do the same to him. I push my hips up, colliding with his hard upper body. He slides a finger inside me, his thumb pressing on my bundle of nerves.
“That feels so good,” I whisper, grinding my hips against him. Eric smiles devilishly at me. Then kissing, wrestling, and lovemaking follow. In that particular order.