Page 30 of The Woman

The marks I previously left on her have faded, which has me eagerly wanting to leave more. Seeing her perfect skin discolored with something I’ve done to her gives me a sick sort of pleasure. I liked it even when I was making an effort to stay away from her.

She squirms under my hold, but it’s not like she’s trying to get away.

I suck at her skin and then lick it, returning my fingers to her underwear. They glide easily against her wetness, and once I locate her clit again, I start circling it, then switch to rubbing back and forth.

Muted noises fill the room, though she tries to hold them back, mewls and moans that are euphonic to my ears. I want to hear more from her.

My lips leave the soft mounds of her chest to brush over the skin of her stomach. I raptly make note of how she reacts to every touch of my fingers, every caress of my hand, and every kiss from my lips.

Is this how other men behave with their women? Remembering my father’s words at the gala, I think not.

“Were you playing my piano?” I whisper against her body.

With her eyes still holding mine, she shakes her head back and forth.

I press harder, my fingers rapidly moving as I push myself up to look down at her again. “Are you a WOUN?”

She breathes heavily, looking like she’s on edge. “You know what I am.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

I don’t know why I’m so adamant about her voicing it out loud when I already know. Maybe it has more to do with her answering me when asked.

She clamps down on her lip again, keeping quiet. So I drop my head down to kiss her, forcing her to open up and release her lip.

A moan passes through her lips to my mouth, the sweet sound almost pushing me to undo my pants and take her like my body is demanding. I can feel a coat of sweat forming along my brow line from holding myself back.

Avery shifts, her sounds and movements mimicking those of that night right before she orgasmed on my lap. Her eyes squeeze shut, and I can see she’s almost there.

Somewhere through the crazed thoughts and feelings plaguing my mind, an idea pops into my head, one that will hopefully help me to take better hold of the sliver of control I’m barely holding onto.

I pull my hand out once again right before she falls apart and then wait for her to realize what’s going on. Her eyes fly open and focus back on me, the lust slowly being replaced by frustration, making her cheeks redder than they were.

She opens her mouth as if to say something and then closes it again, sucking in a deep breath.

“Go ahead and ask,” I say, a hint of amusement in my voice.

The stubborn part of her wants to ignore me. I can see it clearly in her eyes. But the other part must win, the part desperate for relief because she huffs out a breath and lifts that defiant chin at me. “Why did you stop?”

“Why won’t you answer me?” I counter. When the obstinate little female remains silent, I lean down, run my nose along her cheek, and then whisper directly in her ear, “I will let you orgasm if you just tell me. Are you a WOUN?”

Her throat bobs with a thick swallow as I keep close and continue to inhale the intoxicating scent she has.

I feel the sigh from her chest before she finally answers. “Yes. Yes, I’m a WOUN, okay? Yes, I was playing your piano. I’m defective. Now you can send me away.”

I hum against her cheek, pleased with her reply, and then drift lower to brush my lips along her neck. My hand finds its way back into her underwear, and this time I experiment with using my thumb to rub her clit, and find her opening with my other fingers. I push one in for now, testing her reaction as well as the feel of it. It’s so much warmer and wetter inside, and a stuttered breath falls from my lips when I imagine my cock inside of her instead of my fingers.

Stop. Stop thinking about it.

The more I move my finger in and out, the more she seems to respond, and it doesn’t take long for her to reach the edge and then fall over. Her body tenses, and the most beautiful sound comes out of her mouth, drawing me in and leading me to swallow it with a kiss.

She wriggles her still-restrained arms, and I finally let them go, feeling her hands land on my cheeks a moment later as she kisses me just as hard back.

I keep touching her as she rides out her orgasm, rubbing and thrusting until I feel she’s had enough. I then pull my fingers free, intending on tasting them, but when I separate from her mouth, my eyes trail over her swollen pink lips, and, following my instincts, I decide to wipe the finger that was just inside her over her lips instead.

I stare at the wetness on them for a moment, my nostrils flaring before finally dropping my mouth to hers and licking every bit of her taste off them. Once I’ve got it all, I do the same thing with my fingers.

Delicious.

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