|
“I like you like this,” he growls in my ear.
“Like what,” I manage to choke out, my breath shaky.
“Twisting on the line.”
He pulls, and I finally lose the ability to keep my hands to myself. They unclench from my sides and grab at his forearm as if stopping him – my last sense of sensibility telling me to stop this before it’s too late.
His arm freezes, his fingers under my panties and just shy of touching my slick opening. I gather my wits as I look up into those eyes, and I know I could stop this.
…But we both know I won’t.
Because I’m weak with him. Because Bastian Crown makes me lose all sense of my sensibilities.
Because I’m addicted to the way he can break me so sweetly, apparently.
My hands tighten on his forearm, and instead of pushing him away, I pull.
He fucking grins.
“Good girl,” Bastian growls.
He slips two fingers against my opening, and my jaw goes slack with a moan as he pushes them deep inside.
“And how many times have you touched yourself just like this, thinking of me and wishing it was me with my fingers inside of you. I’m betting lots of times.”
“You’re delusional,” I whimper.
“And right.”
“And arrogant.”
“And yet here we are…“
|
Sunny Shelly Reads 