Page 49 of Ice, Love, & Other Penalties

“You taste so good,” he murmurs, his voice husky and the deep sound of it sending a thrill straight to my core.

As he continues to rub me, his thumb never strays far from my clit, applying just enough pressure to keep me teetering on the edge of orgasm. Every time I think I can’t take any more, he changes his rhythm or adds another finger, keeping me guessing and begging for more.

“Please,” I whimper again, my nails digging into his shoulders as I try to hang on to some semblance of control. “I need . . . I need . . .”

“You need what?” he asks, his eyes dark with desire as he looks up at me. “Tell me what you want, Indie.”

I tremble at his words, my heart racing in anticipation.

“Make the ache go away. Please,” I beg.

He lifts me effortlessly, his hands firm beneath my ass, guiding me toward him. My knees spread wide, either side of his head, as he leans back against the couch. I feel his tongue glide over my folds, wet and hungry, like a predator circling its prey.

I gasp, my hips bucking involuntarily against his face, my body betraying my attempts at control. But without warning, he flips me onto my back, his mouth still devouring me. His eyes lock with mine, intense and unwavering, as if daring me to look away. But I can’t, not when his tongue is dancing around my clit, sending electric currents through my veins.

“You like that?” he asks, his tone laced with satisfaction. “You want more?”

I nod feverishly, my breath coming in ragged gasps. He slides two fingers inside me, pumping them in time with his tongue, pushing me closer to the edge. And just when I think I can’t take anymore, he pulls back, leaving me aching and desperate for more.

“Beg for it, darling,” he growls, his voice raw and primal.

I don’t hesitate. “Please,” I whimper, my voice hoarse and needy. “Don’t stop. I need you to make me come.”

His mouth on me is like a drug, an addiction I can’t shake off. Before I can say anything, his tongue is already dancing inside me, sending shivers down my spine. I moan, my back arching involuntarily as he explores every inch of my body with his lips and tongue. He groans beneath me, his grip on my hips tightening, urging me to move faster.

My orgasm builds inside me, like a tidal wave gathering strength before it crashes ashore. And just when I think I can’t take anymore, he slides two fingers inside me, pumping them in time with his tongue, pushing me closer to the edge.

“Oh, God,” I gasp, my voice hoarse and needy. “More . . . Please.”

This time he listens. His fingers thrust faster, his mouth devours me at the same pace. The fire within me grows, a slow burn that starts deep in my belly and spreads. My whole body tenses, tightening higher and higher. I can feel his hands on me, warm and rough, as he traces patterns on my skin. He wanted me to let go, to lose control, and suddenly, pure pleasure crashes over me. I scream his name.

My breath is shallow and when I open my eyes he’s looking at me intensely. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice is hoarse, raw with need.

Our eyes meet, and for a moment, it’s like we’re the only two people in the world. Then he’s sitting back on the couch, holding me, cradling me as if I’m precious. “Thank you,” he whispers against my hair.

“For?” I ask, wanting to return the favor, but unable to move. I’m spent.

“Trusting me. Saying yes. I swear you won’t regret this,” he promises, letting me lean against his chest.

“I should move. This shouldn’t involve cuddling,” I say but don’t move.

“We’re friends, darling. This is the part where you let me hold my friend, care for her because I exhausted her,” he states.

“You’re not what I expected,” I say sleepily, trying to regain my strength and move.

This part of the friendship isn’t acceptable. I know what becoming friends could do to me and I can’t afford it.

“Close your eyes, you’re safe,” he says soothingly, but it’s definitely an order.

I try to fight it, but as my eyes close I have only one thought: don’t hurt me.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Indigo

A little later I stir awake to find a few unexpected things.

I’m naked, covered with a blanket. Dave’s cuddling on top of me while Rigby is on my feet. That shouldn’t worry me, but what’s different is that Lyric sits on the double chaise across from me, gaze enthralled on her computer. There are two mugs on the coffee table and a glass of water.

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