Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline 1)

Hell. She really wasn’t making this any easier on him.

“I am clean,” he replied, “and you’re not playing very fair here. I won’t have my nefarious plans thwarted.”

She’d made no attempt to pull her dress back down, and the skirt part had stayed around her waist, leaving her ass and panties exposed. He swatted her ass, but it only made her grunt with pleasure.

“Who’s thwarting anything?” she snorted. “I’m not even doing anything yet.” Her ass moved back and forth, like she was trying to lure him into using her.

Fuck. His balls ached.

“Fuck me, Fox. Please?” she wheedled. “Just a couple of thrusts, then you can stop. I won’t even complain.”

He had the urge to spank her long and hard, to teach her not to be so tempting, but who knew when someone might come in? He had to make this fast. They were in the back, behind a stack of tall boxes, but still.

As he drew down her panties, her breath grew ragged. He grabbed her ass hard with both hands, reveling at the feel of her lush body. There was something about the way she was made that urged him to bite her all over, to mark her and enjoy the angry marks of his teeth on her flesh. She squeaked, but didn’t move.

He let go, and forced his impatient hands to be gentle as he traced a trail from her lower back, down the crack of her ass, to her anus. Gently, he circled it, enjoying the way her body clenched against his exploration. With her hands wrapped around the opposite side of the crate, she’d frozen in place, her whimpers only barely audible over the throb of the music and his own heartbeat. He toyed over the globes of her ass, and the tips of his fingers left goose bumps on her skin.

“Please fuck me, Fox,” she gasped, her former bravado gone.

He slid a finger into her pussy and finger fucked her while his cock twitched with envy. So ready for him, so wet. His pulse hammered. He played with her clit, keeping her on edge for a few minutes, before he took back the fingers she seemed so desperately to need.

“I hate this game!” She’d probably meant to sound angry, but she only sounded sulky and desperate.

“But it’s my favorite,” he replied.

She groaned then watched him in open-mouthed, incredulous silence as he licked his fingers clean. Maybe she hated this game but she didn’t move from where he’d put her other than to turn her head.

“I could fuck you now, but I have a better idea.”

“Better?” she breathed.

He fished in his pocket and withdrew the small buttplug he’d bought to use on her, and the packet of lube that was warm from his body.

“No,” she pleaded, her eyes widening.

“Yes.”

“But . . . I don’t want to!”

He opened the packet of lube and she lowered her forehead to rest on her arms. The rapid, shallow breaths she was taking were going to make her faint.

“Slow your breathing, pretty girl. This might feel strange at first, but it shouldn’t hurt. If it hurts, you let me know, okay?”

“Oh my god, just do it,” she whispered against her arms.

“I’ll be putting a bigger one in later, after we leave, then fucking your ass when we get home.”

She gave a tortured moan, and he wasn’t sure if it was fear or pleasure. Possibly both.

“Just my finger first,” he said, trying to be reassuring. The plug wasn’t much bigger.

“Your finger? You can’t just use the plug?”

“I could,” he murmured, “but I don’t want to. I want to feel your sexy ass fighting to keep me out.”

“Oh, fuck. You’re such a bastard.”

He clamped his palm down on the back of her neck.