Page 55 of Eden's Joker

And yet, his icy gaze as it travels over my naked, heaving breasts and taut stomach leaves fire in its wake. Fire that also makes my pussy react in a way it hasn’t to a man yet, pangs of need pulsing, awakening something deep in my core.

“Why don’t we get rid of these too,” he says and slides down my panties. Another thing I wanted to happen. Just not like this.

He had to get off me to do it and I miss his weight on top of me. It’s a terrible thing to think in the wake of realizing how horribly wrong all my fantasies of this moment are going.

“You’re a very beautiful woman, Eden,” he says, his voice strained and breathless. “It’s almost a shame to waste you.”

“Then don’t,” I say. “None of this has to happen. You had me.”

He looks at me and cocks an eyebrow. “Had? It looks to me like I still have you right now.”

“You’ll never have me like this.” I force myself to look away from his eyes, up at the ceiling, which is crisscrossed by thin black lines. The plaster up there is cracking badly. Just like everything else about my dreams for him and me.

“Your mouth says that, but your body says something completely different.”

He runs his fingers down the side of my throat, gently across my erect nipple and across my stomach stopping just shy of my mound. But not before I sigh and raise my hips in anticipation. An electric shock has nothing on the searing heat his fingers left in their wake.

He chuckles. “See, I told you.”

I turn my head away so he won’t see me blush.

“Let’s try that again,” he says.

This time he uses both hands. I manage not to react in any way. But it’s hard.

He clicks his tongue and twists both my erect nipples at the same time. I moan loudly and turn my head to stare at him with what I’m sure is a very murderous look.

He chuckles. “Did that make you mad because you liked it?”

“You make me mad,” I say. “Everything about you pisses me off, and especially these sick plans you have for me. So laugh all you want. You’re never getting what you want from me. And that’s a promise.”

“Such fighting words. When all you actually want is more of this.”

He slides his thumb across my lips as he pinches my nipple again with his other hand. I try not to react, but I can’t stifle my moan. I only just barely managed not to lick his thumb.

“See?” he says and laughs again, this time parting my lips with his thumb and leaning so low over me that all I can see are his lips. Which I want on mine. And on my nipples and my pussy.

He’s hard. His cock is throbbing as it presses into my side and the thought of it replacing his finger in my mouth is quickly becoming an unbearable wish. He’s about to kiss me and I want it so bad the rest of my mind is just a very thick fog, easily obscuring the horrific reality of what is actually happening here.

He moves his lips away instead of towards mine and I can’t stifle the moan of disappointment.

“Or maybe you actually want some of this.” His voice is hoarse and breathless like maybe he’s struggling with some fog in his brain too.

He removes his thumb from between my lips and runs it down my center, this time not stopping when hereaches my pussy. Sparks fly, inside my body and all around, as his thumb caresses my clit. I sigh and moan and can’t stop as he traces its line up and down. He’s barely touching yet even this little bit is too much.

I should be fighting. I should be cursing him out. I should at least be lying perfectly still and ignoring him. Instead, I’m sighing and moaning and moving my pussy closer to his too gentle touch.

“Told you,” he says, even those two little words seemingly hard for him to say.

I don’t say anything, because I’m afraid my stupid, weird and crazy mouth will just make me beg for more.

His breathing grows deeper as he intensifies his slow tracing of the line of my clit. The sparks of pleasure his touch is causing are now running together into a glowing pool deep inside me. If my hands were free, I’d help him along. If my hands were free, I’d be begging for more. But I am his prisoner, and this is not how it’s supposed to be.

Why does it have to feel so good?

He starts tracing slow circles over my clit, applying more pressure then less, then more again. He’s trying not to breathe hoarsely just as hard as I’m trying not to moan and sigh and ram my pussy into his hand.

I will orgasm if he keeps this up. If I don’t stop him. I will come all over his hand and then he’ll know all my words before were just talk.

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