He dropped a warm, open mouth kiss on her bare shoulder.
And slid his finger inside her.
She groaned, her hips thrusting forward.
He pulled his finger out, keeping only the very tip of it pressed against her opening, and she grabbed his wrist, holding his hand still while she ground down against him, bringing him back where she wanted him.
His laugh was dark. Pleased.
“Like I said…” He tugged her shirt down, exposing her breast. Bent his head and flicked his tongue over her peaked nipple. She arched into him. “Needy, horny girl.”
He blew lightly on her nipple, causing it to pucker harder. Curled his finger inside of her, rubbing it against the bundle of nerves behind her clit. Her fingers tightened on his wrist and it took all her willpower not to fuck herself with his finger like he was her favorite dildo.
“Hands on my shoulders,” he demanded.
The moment she obeyed, he wrapped his lips around her nipple and sucked. Hard. Slid his finger out of her pussy only to push back with the addition of a second one.
She writhed against him, her hips undulating, her senses full of him. The sight of his dark head bent over her breast, his mouth pursed around her nipple. His low grunts of satisfaction and the wet, slapping sound as he worked her core. The hardness of his shoulders beneath her hands. The slow and steady in and out stroke of his fingers.
He twirled his tongue around her nipple. Lifted his head. “Hold on,” he said, his voice low. Guttural. “This is going to get rough.”
It was a testament to how much she wanted him, how desperate she was to come, that those words didn’t frighten her. Not even a little.
They set her free.
Last night she’d told him not to treat her like she was fragile and he’d taken that to heart then and now. He added a third finger, stretching her in the best way possible. Gently scraped his teeth along her nipple.
Then quickened his pace, plunging into her faster. Harder. Fucking her with his hand the way he’d fucked her mouth last night. With complete and total abandon. Treating her not like she was broken, but like she was whole. Not like she was some fantasy he’d wished for, someone to be coddled and protected, someone he needed to save.
But like she was his dream come true.
Using his shoulders as leverage, she bore down against his hand, grinding against him. She couldn’t take him hard enough. Fast enough. Deep enough. Her breath sobbed out of her. She was close… so close… pleasure was building, building, building, but it was just out of reach.
“Please,” she gasped, rotating her hips, digging her fingernails into his shoulder. So close… so close… “Please, Miles…”
As if waiting for her to beg, he bit down on her nipple at the same time he pressed his thumb against her clit. Rubbed small, tight circles over it.
She began to shake. Legs. Arms. Hands. She’d been on the verge since the moment he’d wrapped his hand in her hair last night, but she’d held off, had held back because he’d been right.
This orgasm belonged to him.
She tightened around him, pleasure starting at her core before exploding through her body. Wave after wave suffused her and she did her best to catch them, to ride them out, her hips driving against the hard, quick thrust of his fingers.
“Give it to me,” he growled, lifting his head, his breathing quick and shallow. “Give me what’s mine.”
Eyes wide and on his, she spiraled higher and higher until she exploded, his name a moan, her body convulsing with her release, back arching, pussy squeezing his fingers. She let him see. See her most vulnerable.
Her most truthful.
Letting him see clearly and without any doubt, the power he held over her.
The power she gave him.
And as she came down, it was his touch that soothed her, his fingers still stroking in and out, but slower. Gentler.
His murmured, husky words that steadied her.
What a good girl she was to come for him.