Page 90 of Ask Me Something

I found myself pushing toward him while trying to remember that we were currently in public. Sucking in my breath when his finger probed deeper, I squirmed to try to find relief without it being obvious to anyone who may be witnessing us.

“Can I get you two something to drink?” the waitress asked, snapping both my thoughts and legs shut.

“Honey, what would you like?” Brian questioned casually, as if his hand wasn’t currently crushed between my thighs.

“I’d love a margarita, no salt, please,” I choked out.

“Same, thank you.” He turned toward me, and I flushed at his gaze. “Open.”

“Brian, we’re in public,” I protested weakly, and then my knees fell open; I was unable to resist him.

His fingers reclaimed my pulsing sex. “That means you need to get better at putting on a poker face because after that waitress sets down our drinks, I have plans for this sweet pussy of yours.”

I shivered in response to his crude language.

“Thanks darlin’,” he said once the drinks were dropped off. He took a sip with his free hand.

I almost downed mine in one gulp.

“Easy now, or she’ll be coming back to get you another drink sooner than I’d like,” he whispered. “I want you to relax.”

I tried to do as he requested, but when his finger pressed deep into me, I gripped the table. “Bri—” My entire body was on the brink, and he knew it.

His expression looked pained. “Fuck it, we’ll explore pleasurable torture some other time. Let’s go.” He downed the rest of his drink. I didn’t get a chance to finish mine before he was pulling me out of the club.

Once we reached the elevator, Brian cornered me, kissing me soundly. “The look on your face is about to do me in.”

I could feel his erection pressed up against me and bit my lip at the fact that I was practically dripping with anticipation.

When we arrived on our floor, I was unceremoniously scooped up and put over his shoulder. Once we got to the room, Brian wasted no time in tossing me onto the bed with his face following between my legs.

I screamed when the orgasm came crashing down over me. Breathing hard, I looked at him when he stood up, a frown marring his handsome face. “What’s wrong?” I asked, noting the frustration in his features.

“Nothing,” he muttered.

I narrowed my eyes. “Lie to me again and see what happens.”

Evidently we could read one another accurately in that department. His hands captured my face, and he sealed his lips over mine. He slipped his tongue greedily into my mouth, and then he pulled back, putting his forehead on mine. “The truth is: I’m not dominant with you like with other girls because you make me lose control. Like in the club five minutes ago, our first time in the ocean, and too many other times to count. Pleasurable torture is supposed to be an exercise, not only in pleasuring you, but in my control. Instead, I completely lost my damned mind not even five minutes in.”

His admission didn’t come easy, I could sense. “Do you hate that?”

He hesitated, vulnerability evident in his eyes. “Only if you do.”

I smiled and touched my lips to his. “You make me lose my mind, too.”

We proceeded to lose it together.

* * *

The next daywe slept in past breakfast, and I was absolutely starving by the time we made it down for lunch. We both piled our plates with the fresh seafood, and I indulged in the pasta bar.

Brian quirked a brow, taking in the fact that my plate was larger than his.

I shrugged. “I need it to keep up with you,” I muttered.

He smiled, surprising me by taking my hand over the table. “I’m glad we’re doing this.”

“The sex or the trip?”

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