Pinching her nipples once more and not releasing it this time, Nic said in a low, commanding growl, “Say it, my sweet girl. Say you know what will happen next. Say you want it.”
The urgency and command in his voice captured her, turning Ayah into a slave of passion. She whimpered out, “I know.” Swallowing once more, she whispered, “I know what will happen next and I...I want it.”
“Good girl.” A rush of the most powerful desire surged into him, his cock rising up inside his pants at her words. Her surrender was impossibly sweet, making him want to take her then and there and over and over until they passed out in total exhaustion, their bodies still joined.
His cock throbbed again, in a way that could no longer be ignored. He released her breasts and pulled her close to him, kissing her even as his hand delved back under the blanket, searching for the triangle of flesh between her thighs. It took Nic only a few seconds to get inside her shorts, another few to push her lace panties aside and wet his fingers with her honeyed warmth.
She stiffened and arched in his arms, her legs stretching out, her head falling back. At that moment, she was the hottest girl he had ever seen in his life, and he swallowed back a groan, wishing for the nth time they were in the privacy of his jet. If they were, they would have long been fucking.
Nic started stroking her, teasing her folds into parting open, knowing that every throb would have her clit begging for his attention more and more. Soon, her scent reached him, making his nostrils flare and his cock nearly explode. Gazing down at her, he knew that she was completely unaware of how her musky scent would soon reach the others – the look of rapture on her lovely face told him that she was already lost in the throes of passion between them.
So innocent, he thought. His lust for this girl he had just met surprised Nic. Innocents – and Ayah Chandler was sure to be one – had never appealed to him. In fact, it was always the opposite. They had used to bore him – until now. Until Ayah.
She stirred and strained in his arms and he knew it was time to take her away. He pushed one finger inside. And froze.
She, too, stilled, her gaze jerking up to him.
Nic gritted out, “You’re a virgin.”
Ayah whispered, “Yes.”
She didn’t say anything else, but her gaze was begging him to keep touching her and it was a plea he could not afford to ignore, not with his body demanding her complete submission.
Fuck. He did not do virgins, and he had no plans taking her virginity. But to let this all go – this intense chemistry between them – without doing anything wasn’t something Nic could do either.
His finger moved involuntarily inside her and she jerked, her muscles tightening instinctively around him.
The tightness of her sheath was mind-blowing, and that was enough to make him decide.
There was more than one way to possess a woman, and he would possess Ayah Chandler now. He needed to. He had to.
When he started moving his finger, in and out, the softest and breathiest moan escaped Ayah. She shuddered as the thrusts of his finger became harder and faster. How could such a simple act be so beautifully hot?
It was so wrong to feel like this in such a public place. She knew that, knew it should matter but she just couldn’t make herself care. She couldn’t even stop her hips from moving, meeting the thrust of his finger. She tried to slow it down at least but he shook his head at her, the hard look on his face telling Ayah he demanded her total surrender.
She shook her head back at him.
He responded by pushing another finger in.
Oh!
This time, when he pulled his fingers out and thrust it back in again, she was totally gone, her hips moving on its own accord, passionately welcoming the penetration of his fingers.
More, more, please, more. She screamed the words out in her mind as he kept fucking her with his fingers. In her mind, a small voice told her she was being such a slut. But she pushed that voice away and replaced it with another – the one that never stopped dreaming, not even when she had hit rock bottom after her mother’s death. That voice told her that Luuk Aafjes was the man she had never dared to dream of but should.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders, Ayah using it to communicate to Luuk that she wanted him so, so much.
He responded by taking her mouth in an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue slipping inside her mouth, a bold proclamation that her lips, her mouth, her everything was his. And it was. Oh, she thought with a shudder, it was. It was.