But Lola hasn’t.
And she’s been scheming all day. I just know it.
Lola goes to bed by ten, and she’s been playing loud music for the last twenty minutes.She keeps playing the same song. It’sFKA Twigs’s“Two Weeks.” The ultimate sex song if I’ve ever heard one. And it’s blaring. What the fuck are her headphones good for if she’s going to play music this loud? It’s on purpose. It has to be. I try to ignore it. She’s just trying to get my attention.
But then it plays a second time. She’s playing it on a loop, I realize. What the fuck is she doing? That’s it. I can’t take it any longer. I stomp over to her door, ready to pound on it and yell at her to turn the music down. But when I get there, the door is cracked open. To my horror—and delight—she’s on the bed . . . writhing and naked.
The lights in her room are off, but she has some sort of red-tinted nightlight that outlines her body perfectly. Her legs are outstretched into the perfect diamond shape with her hot-pink toes touching, her hand between her legs. She moves her hand, stroking up and down slowly, and I catch a glimpse of something dark pink in her hands. It looks like a bullet toy of some sort. My jaw is so tight, I might break a tooth.
Lola will be my undoing.
I storm into her room, find her phone on the bedside table, and shut off the song. At first, she startles at the interruption, then smiles when she sees me. Her eyes were shut tight before, and she didn’t see me come in.
She smiles up at me but keeps moving the toy between her legs. A sheen of perspiration on her skin glows under the red light. I hover over her, my face an inch away from hers, and I grab her jaw between my fingers angrily. She winces a bit. And it must hurt, but I’m so angry, I don’t care. “Masturbate all you want, doll,” I say. “I’m not going to fuck you. You lost the bet.”
Her eyes hold mine with challenge clear in those twin green pools. “I know,” she breathes out and writhes some more under her hand.
I chuckle bitterly and shake my head, then make my way to the door. “Last fucking warning. Keep the fucking music down,” I hiss and slam the door with too much force.
* * *
But she doesn’t keepthe music down the next night. Only the song this time is “Barely Legal” byThe Strokes, and I have to laugh out loud. My poor, sweet doll is getting desperate, and she’s taunting me. And she’s fucking doing it with the best musical selections.
I run my hand over my face in frustration and turn to scream into a pillow so she doesn’t hear it—not that she would over the music. Then I cover my ears with the pillow and drift off into the most restless sleep of my life.
When she does it again a third night in a row, to none other thanHalestorm’s“I Get Off,” something snaps inside me.
That fucking does it.
I storm into her room again, but this time I don’t shut off the music. I let the song play on a loop. I nearly tear the shirt off my body and rip my sweats and boxers off. Anger seeps from my every pore. She props herself up on her elbows—a dark smile on her lips. She thinks she’s fucking won.
Oh, doll. You can’t play with fire and not get burned.
I crawl on top of her and bite her neck. Her eyes shut tight in pain, and I bite her lip, but I don’t dare kiss her. She jerks back in shock. “Is this what you want?” I yell over the music.
She shakes her head, her eyes a bit frightened now under the glow of the low red light. “You want me to stop?” She thinks for a moment, then shakes her head again, and I smirk at her. My tongue tastes the delicate flesh leading to her shoulder, and I grind my erection on her stomach but don’t go any lower. She reaches with her hand to touch herself again, and I pin her hands together above her head, forcing the toy out of her hands. The bullet lands next to us on the bed, where it buzzes against her hip. I shake my head at her. I keep licking her neck, her clavicle, letting her feel my length on her body, but get nowhere near where she wants me.
I work my way down her body, dragging my tongue down her neck, between her breasts, down her abdomen, and when I reach her mound, she lets her knees fall to the sides, opening up to me. And fuck. She’s perfect.
I part her flesh with two fingers but don’t sink them inside any deeper, and fuck—she is dripping wet. My eyes draw closed in reverence. What would it feel like? To let go and let myself feel her, let myself be inside of her? Bliss. It would be bliss.
But I won’t. Not even with fingers.Hasshe had her fingers inside? Toys? I lick her inner thigh and whisper into her skin, “What secrets does your body keep, my sweet doll?” But she doesn’t hear me.
With that thought, I find her center and dart my tongue out to find her clit. I circle it slowly, and her moan rises above the music as the song starts over. “Karl!” She moans and writhes under my touch, but keeps her legs wide open for me. I pick up the speed, and her thighs shake in my hands. She yells my name again and says something else, but it gets drowned out in the chorus. I pull away for a moment to locate the toy. I position it at her entrance, swirling it, teasing her. I have no fucking idea if she’s had toys inside or not—I’ve only seen her play with the toy on her clit—and I’m afraid of pushing it in any farther and instead let it stay there, right at the opening, buzzing gently in my hand. I peer up at her, and she seems to enjoy it. Her hips lift, wanting it deeper—I know. But I’m not giving her what she wants.
Not tonight.
Even as her own body begins to ever so gently suction the toy inside, I tug on it to keep it out. Fuck, this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, but I keep my grip on the bullet, tugging against her body’s gentle suction to not let it in, and return my tongue to her clit.
Within minutes, her every leg muscle tenses under my grip, and she comes hard on my tongue.
I’m ready to explode, so I have to let go of her thigh and fist the bedsheets tight to stop myself from taking my dick in my hand until she’s done climaxing.
When her body is down to soft quivers, I drag my mouth down the length of her thigh to clean off most of the wetness with her skin and come up and over her again. I bite her lip again, still not kissing her, with open eyes to see her reaction at tasting herself on my mouth. Her eyes grow wide, and then she lifts, trying to kiss me, but I pull away.
After managing to avoid her kisses, I lean back, kneeling above her, and stroke myself furiously. Her eyes widen with horror as realization must strike. She shakes her head, and I read her lips saying,No.Her hips lift off the mattress, trying to buck me so I’ll be closer to her entrance. She wants me inside her, not jerking off above her.
But I’m so ready by the time I start jerking off, it takes no time before I explode over her stomach. I keep stroking, emptying myself over her body. My muscles are tight knots as I jerk out the last of my cum, letting it pool in the dip of her belly.