She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth as he made skilled circles around the sensitive bud, slicking her skin with her arousal and driving up her need. It was just the right pressure to send her heart galloping and her breaths quickening. It’d been a while, and her body wanted to tip over, take that release, but she couldn’t let it. Not this easily. Not yet. She pressed her forehead to the wall and rocked her hips, trying to adjust the touch, make it less potent. But he was too agile, too aware of her every move.
He shifted his hand and slid a thick finger inside her. She couldn’t stop her reaction then. Her moan came from the back of her throat and filled the quiet living room. Fuuuuck.
“That’s it,” he said, slowly pumping his finger inside her and then going back to her clit in a maddening dance. “It’s okay that you enjoy it. It doesn’t mean you lose. It means we both win.”
He was right. She knew that. But it was so hard to give in, to accept that this was happening with Lane and that she wanted it this badly.
He found her most secret hot spot, right of center and just where she liked to touch herself when she was on a solo tour. The precision of the stroke was too much. Her fingers curled against the wall and she breathed through her teeth. “I can’t…not yet…”
Lane kissed the back of her neck. “I’ve got all night, doc. And I’m patient as fuck. This won’t be the last one. I promise. Stop fighting.”
She panted. Orgasm was beating down the doors, but she couldn’t give in. She had no idea why she was resisting still, but she found herself staving it off. Counting in her head. Doing anything and everything to lead away from what she knew would be full-on pleasure.
Stop. She tried to push away the resistance, tried to let herself feel it, but her brain slammed the door shut again. Her fingers balled into a fist and tapped the wall. “Can’t…”
He continued for a few seconds more but then paused as if her words had finally sunk in. “You’re not lying, are you? You really can’t give in.”
The stillness of his fingers was torture. She rocked her forehead against the wall. She wanted to come, needed that release, but her brain and her body were battling.
Before she could form any words to explain, Lane was backing up, the loss of his heat startling. He dragged her dress over her head, leaving her in her wrecked panties and lacy bra. “Remember your safe word, doc.”
“What?”
He lifted her off her feet without warning, cradling her against his chest. She gasped and blinked her eyes open, the sudden shift making her head spin. She peered up at him but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring straight ahead as he carried her into the hallway, a determined set to his jaw.
“What are you doing?” The question popped out of her.
He bumped open the door to her bedroom and set her down on the bed. He pointed a finger her way. “Don’t move.”
Her lips parted, but he was out of the door in a flash. Her heartbeat picked up speed and her body throbbed with ultimate frustration, but for some reason, she didn’t get off the bed. A minute later, he came back with an armful of mint-green sheets—the ones from her guest room. “What the hell?”
“Lay down,” he said as he knotted the fitted sheet to the top sheet. “I don’t have what I need but this should work.”
“Work for what? And it’s lie not lay.”
He looked up, smirking. “Are you really giving me a goddamned grammar lesson while you lie there with a soaked cunt and a fuck me look on your face?”
The words were rude. Harsh. True as shit. And for some reason, sexy as hell. She let her gaze travel over him as he continued to tie the sheets and then lingered on the impressive outline in his pants. “You’re not exactly the vision of restraint either. Your dick’s about to shred the denim.”
He gripped his erection and smiled. “Offering to make it better, doc? You can’t correct my grammar with a full mouth.”
She leaned back on her elbows, following his earlier command. “I don’t give head. Not my thing.”
His eyebrow lifted. “Beneath you, huh?”
No, I stopped when I tasted someone else on my husband. “Something like that.”
“Lucky for you, I have something else in mind.” He walked over to the bed, put his hands on her shoulders, and guided her down. Before she could protest, he draped the sheet over her chest and tucked one side under the mattress.
She had no idea what he was doing but found herself lying there and watching. He dragged the tied sheet fully beneath the mattress then yanked the other half out the other side. He grabbed the unsecured side of the sheet over her and knotted it to its partner, cinching it tight. The tug stretched the flat of the sheet over her shoulders, breasts, and stomach, pinning her arms at her sides and her body to the bed but leaving her bottom half exposed.
Her breathing stuttered. “Lane?”
“Take a deep breath for me.”
She inhaled through her nose, filling her lungs and making the sheet pull tighter.
He nodded. “See. You can breathe. Anything hurt?”