My thoughts float away like clouds whisking through the air. I’m dizzy with need and when he inserts a second finger stretching me in a deliciously slow way before adding pressure to my clit, I know I’ll never be the same again.
It’s too much, too fast.
His fingers inside me.
My heavy pants.
My eyes flutter closed involuntarily, the sensations mounting.
“Open your eyes,” he orders, his fingers digging into my hip possessively. “How long have you been waiting for me to finger-fuck you? Days, weeks? How long have you wanted this, wanted me inside you, owning you?”
God, please, make him shut up.
“I hate you,” I murmur, wishing I had the strength to push him away. But I don’t, not physically or mentally. He has a hold on me, and I’m caught in his trap, an unwilling victim to his hate, and to his rage.
“I hate you more,” he growls, his lips so close he’s almost kissing me. We stare into each other’s eyes, his gaze is hard, but it’s brimming with need that definitely mirrors the thrusting his fingers are doing, going even deeper inside of me, curling and hitting a spot that no one else has ever hit before.
I have to concentrate hard to keep my eyes open. I want to close them so bad, let my head fall back against the wall, and just give in to the pleasure completely, but I won’t. I won’t give him that kind of power.
With his thumb on my clit, pressing down on the small bundle of nerves, he continues thrusting his fingers deep inside of me, his pace increasing, growing furious with each passing second. The sound of his fingers slipping through my arousal fills my ears. It’s erotic and reminds me further of how much I despise him.
Warmth gathers deep in my core, and I know I’m close. Judging by the grin tugging on his lips, he knows it too.
Bastard.
“Come, Ava…come all over my fingers. I want to feel you squeeze me.” His words set me off. My toes curl in my boots and my spine tingles. The impending climax claiming me with a vengeance. Unable to keep my eyes open a second longer, they close and roll to the back of my head, just as a loud moan rips from my throat.
My whole body tightens, my pussy squeezing his fingers like he wanted me to, but I don’t care, not that we crossed a line or that I listened to him.
Right now, I don’t care about anything. I feel like I’m high, my mind swarmed with endorphins, my muscles feeling as they went through a deep tissue massage or something. If I wasn’t exhausted before, I am now.
My knees wobble like a newborn baby fawn’s and almost give out underneath me as he releases me. Vance waits like the perfect gentleman until my pussy stops pulsing and the last tremors of my orgasm have rippled through me before he removes his hand and lets go of my hip. I nearly whimper at the loss of his touch but catch myself a second before I do.
I have to lean back against the wall to keep myself from falling over. Bringing a hand to my chest, I try and steady the muscle beating like crazy inside of it.
Somehow I will my eyes open and find that he is still standing in front of me, eyes gleaming with a noticeable boner pressing against his zipper. For some reason, I expected him to be gone by now, that maybe I had just made up this whole thing in my mind.
But there he is, staring at me recovering from an orgasm that he gave me.
“You’re welcome,” he says cockily, a smile ghosting his lips as he does that weird sexy thing guys do where they rub their thumb over their bottom lip. “Next time, I’ll expect you to return the favor.”
“Fuck you.” The words pass my lips on a whisper. I’m far too tired to fight with him right now. “And this won’t be happening again. You. Me. Us. Whatever it is. It’s done. I won’t let you do this again.”
He licks his lips and tilts his head to the side, studying me.
“Won’t or don’t want me to do it again? There’s a difference and just as I’ve always said, once a liar, always a liar. You want this, you want me, and I’ll be damned if I don’t feed off your biggest weakness. We’ll be through when I say we’re through.”
My mouth pops open to spit off another smart comment, but there’s no point, because he’s right I am a liar, and I want what we just did to happen again. I want his cock… his hand, his lips.
He doesn’t stick around to hear if I’ll say anything else, instead, he turns and jogs up the staircase leaving me alone with my treacherous body and thoughts.