His eyes burned, willpower cracking in them like sky breaking through clouds. Months ago I could have ended this before the worst of it, if only I’d told him to stop when he’d given me the chance.
Say no, Snitch. Tell me to stop.
Then, I hadn’t given him an answer. I’d hidden behind a lie out of fear of my desire. Now, I had the chance to right my wrong on the altar of his wedding. Do it all over again. Be the person I always thought I was. Good. Moral.
“I don’t want you to stop,” I said.
His eyes grew, but he didn’t move. His body so tense and rigid, muscles coiled, like he wanted to grab me but was stopping himself, even after I’d said I didn’t want him to. I tugged at his bow tie, loosening it until it lay crooked. I undid the top buttons of his dress shirt, and bit his exposed neck.
He let out a ragged sigh.
“Please don’t stop, Grayson.”
I was already in hell without him. What was one more sin?
I took his hand from my neck, placing it between my thighs.
He dropped his head to my shoulder on a groan. “You’re already so fucking wet.”
He pushed aside my panties, pressing one finger between my lips, but going no further. I arched, trying to force him in.
“You want this?” His voice was rough, sharp, jagged. “I don’t have a condom, Story.” He thrust his finger inside me, and my mouth opened on a silent gasp.
Outside, the music grew louder, a violent clash of strings.
“That’s what happens when you only carry one around for ten years hoping to get lucky,” I breathed out, arching into him.
He slammed his free hand on the wall behind me. “No jokes, little nun.”
Still, he teased my clit with his thumb in slow, taunting circles. Watching me. Devouring me. His self-control evident by the muscle twitching in his neck.
His words cautioned, but his fingers pumping into me rough and hard belied what his lips would have me believe.
“I’m not on any birth control,” I admitted.
“I don’t give a shit. Tell me to stop. Tell me your safe word.”
He fucked me with his fingers like it was his last time…and I guess…it was. He drank me in. I curled into the feeling, lost myself. He wanted words from me when all I could manage were whimpers.
He thumbed my clit. “What’s the first rule of training?”
“When you say come…” I breathed, so close to hitting that spot.
He removed his hands right when I was about to come, leaving me dazed, buzzed, exhilarated.
“Tell me your safe word. Tell me your safe word, little nun, and I’ll let you come.”
His fingers ghosted across my clit, seizing my breath.
Everything about this was a bad idea. I knew it, but still, I craved him. I wanted him. Only moments ago he’d kissed me, and I missed his lips. It had been over a month since I’d had him inside me.
I reached for his pants, undoing them, reaching for his cock. “No. No safe word. I want you inside me.”
He didn’t stop me when I pulled out his cock, but he didn’t help me either. He swallowed a noise low in his throat when I held him in my hand.
I spread my legs, wanting him, wishing him to just come to me.
His tongue darted out, wetting his full lower lip, nostrils flared.