Hating You (Blackthorn Elite 1) - Page 20
My mouth waters and I’m too tempted not to give in to the need to touch that hard little peak. With my thumb and forefinger, I pluck at the nub rolling it between two fingers. I fight the enticing need to shove her sweater up and take it into my mouth, to suck on it, to leave bright red marks on the milky white skin.
A low whimper meets my ears, as I pinch her nipple, twisting just enough to give her a bite of pain. Part of me wants to hurt her, to make her bleed, while the other part of me wants to touch her tenderly and watch her fall apart beneath my fingers.
No. Grappling for control, I release her nipple and ignore her whimpering. I make my way underneath her panties with my other hand. She’s not objecting, not begging me to stop, which means she’s either not scared enough yet, or she wants this just as badly as I do. And I guess I’m going to find out. My fingers find purchase on her skin a moment later. It’s smooth and velvety, softer than her panties even.
Very slowly, I slide my hand lower, reveling in how she feels beneath my touch, bare and smooth. She smells even more delicious and looks even more tempting this close up. The last time we were this close darkness surrounded us, taking away my chance to see her, but this time, I can see her, burning like a ball of fire in the sky.
When I reach the top of her folds, I groan. I was prepared for her to scream, to cry, and beg me to stop, but nothing could have prepared me for the wetness I find when I slide my fingers through them.
Leaning into her, I pin her trembling body between Warren and me. Brushing my nose against her throat, I place an open-mouthed kiss against the tender skin, feeling her heartbeat thrum like a pair of bird wings against my lips.
“You’re fucking wet,” I confirm, slightly shocked while murmuring against her neck, just as I graze her swollen clit. With my own heart beating out of my chest, I move my fingers through her wetness, paying special attention to her tiny little nub, wishing my mouth was where my fingers are right now. I bet she’d taste absolutely delicious. Like chocolate and sin. Like a fucking liar…
Looking at her face, I find her eyes, as well as her lips, are squeezed shut, her face turned away from me. She’s trying to ignore me, ignore this, but not even she can muffle the moan of pleasure enough to hide it. It vibrates through her whole body and into mine, her desire slamming into me like a hurricane barreling against the coastline.
Fuck. My jaw clenches, and suddenly I realize I want to feel her fall apart on my hand. The plan was to scare her, but now I want more, need more, and she’s the perfect victim. She took from me, so I suppose it’s okay for me to take from her.
Taking her clit between my index and middle finger, I alternate between pinching it and rubbing small circles against it at the same time, drawing another groan out of her. Her cheeks turn a soft pink, and she struggles against Warren, almost as if she’s trying to fight the mounting pleasure, but no matter how much she tries to hide it, she can’t hide the fact that her body wants me. It wants my touch.
Nipping at her ear, I whisper, “I warned you, and you should have listened.” I pinch her clit, smirking as she bites down on her bottom lip to stifle the pleasure she’s feeling. “I own this place, and everybody in it, including you. You do what I say when I say it. If I want you naked and, on your knees, then you better be naked and on your fucking knees.” I bite her ear again, and she shivers, from fear or pleasure, I don’t know, but if I’m betting, I’m going to say pleasure.
“I own you now, and that means I own your body too, and I bet you can guess what that means?” I give her a moment to answer, and when she doesn’t, I chuckle, blowing hot breath against her skin. “Since you don’t want to answer, I’ll be nice and tell you. It means I’m going to do with you whatever I want, whenever I want, do you understand?” My words seem to only arouse her more because as soon as they pass my lips, I feel a gush of moisture against my fingers. She’s like a waterfall, gushing with arousal, and I’m a man who hasn’t had a drink of water in years.
“You can’t do this,” her lips tremble, and while it sounds like she’s afraid, she’s not telling me to stop, and that’s good enough for me. I want this, need this. I’ve waited three long days to feel her beneath me. It’s time to watch the fragile beauty fall apart at my touch. If she remembers anything, it’ll be how she wanted this as badly as I did.
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