“Is that the best you can do?” I gritted through clenched teeth.
He grabbed my hair and jerked my head back, forcing a shriek from my lungs. “I’m just getting started.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against my cheek. “Don’t fucking move.” His voice was calm, dark.
The fabric of his jeans rustled followed by the sound of a zipper being pulled down.
Oh, God.
I swallowed hard. This was it.
He held his palm in front of my face. “Lick it.”
He loosened his grip in my hair, allowing me to move my head forward and do as I was told. I flattened my tongue and lapped his skin from wrist to fingertip.
“Fuck,” he rasped. His hand disappeared for a moment, then reappeared in front of my face. “Again.”
I licked his palm, and his fingertips began massaging my scalp. I leaned my head back, giving into this rare act of tenderness.
He pulled his other hand away from my mouth, then brought it back a few seconds later. “Spit in it.”
What the hell?
His grip tightened in my hair, and on instinct I hurried and spat in his palm.
His hand disappeared, followed quickly by a low growl echoing in the air. He let go of my hair, and I started to turn my head to see what he was doing, but his hands on my ass, spreading my cheeks apart held me in place.
No.
“Caspian…”
The hard length of his cock was heavy between my cheeks, slick with what was no doubt my saliva, gliding back and forth, rocking slowly along the crack. It felt so dirty, but Jesus did it feel good. Everything inside me tightened with need.
He placed his hand at the small of my back. “You’re mine, Little Troublemaker. All of you. Even this.” In one small movement, the thick crown of his cock was at my pleated hole.
I vehemently shook my head.
I was wrong. I wouldn’t survive this. He was too big, and I’d never done anything…there.
He would tear me apart.
I braced my hands on the ground and scrambled away from him.
He grabbed my ankles and dragged me back. The earth and grass burned my skin as my shirt pulled up over my breasts.
“No,” I cried. “Please.” My breath was ragged, and my heart lunged to my throat. “I’m not ready.”
He flipped me over and plunged his middle finger inside my pussy. His mouth curled in a grin. “No?” He added a second finger, sinking in all the way to his knuckle. “You feel ready to me.”
I arched my back and pushed against his hand as he worked his fingers in and out. The sounds my body was making. God.The sounds.I was so wet, and the sound of it only seemed to urge him on. His thumb pressed against my clit, and I began to unravel. My body felt like the ocean waves behind us, building and surging, ready to crash.
“Oh, you meanhere.” He slid his fingers out and trailed them over my hole, overthathole, the forbidden one, circling and circling until I was soaked, then finally easing a fingertip inside.
My body quivered as my walls clenched around him. The pressure was so foreign and at the same time so welcome.
He smiled again. “You like that.” He wasn’t asking.
Did I like it?
The way that tightness in my belly exploded into fiery sparks told me I did, even though my mind was in denial.