Page 58 of Lace 'em Up

Long lashes resting against the tops of her cheeks.

She trembles, lips parting, eyes slitting open just enough to give me a glimpse of insecurity. For a second, I’d thought she meant that no other man had the pleasure of tasting that slick cunt, that liquid desire I can see—even from here—folds glinting beneath blond curls in the early morning sunshine.

And I’m caveman enough to admit that the thought had sent a bolt of pleasure through me.

This pussy mine and only mine?

Yeah. I’m good with that.

But rage had quickly followed—banking those caveman urges—when I processed what she meant.

She only came—when she came at all (because I didn’t miss that distinction either)—with her partners?

They didn’t worship her like the goddess she is? They didn’t make her come until she couldn’t take any more, until she was limp and sated and her clit was overloaded from sensation?

And then make her come again despite that?

Fucking bastards.

But it’s what has my clenched jaw staying clenched, tabling the urge to plunge deep and fuck that slick cunt.

I’m going to make this good.

I’m going to make it fucking incredible for her.

I slowly trace my hand along her side, down her rib cage, her waist, over her hips, and then inside, dipping my finger between thighs I’m desperate to have wrapped around me, her heels digging into my ass as I fuck her senseless.

Patience.

I stroke a feather-like touch through her labia, tracing plump lips, slow and steady, smirking when she arches up, tries to find more purchase in my fingers.

But it’s not time for that yet.

“Behave,” I chide, pulling back when she presses, waiting until she settles, then rewarding her with a brush of my thumb over her clit when she melts into the mattress. “Let me make you feel good.”

She’s restless, her gaze locked on mine. “I need…”

“I know what you need,” I tell her. “Now”—I reach in, pinch her nipple hard enough to make her gasp—“behave.”

“You’re a dick,” she snaps, but her eyes are sparking with desire.

“I’m going to give you my dick.”

Just not right now.

She rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning.

Until I brush her clit again, and then she’s moaning, lips—both sets—damp and plump and tempting. My mouth waters, but I’m going to get her to come this way first. Then with my mouth. Then my fingers and my mouth. Then?—

Right.

I should probably stop thinking about all the ways I’m going to make her come.

And actually make her come.

I press my thumb a little harder, circle her clit, gauging her gasps, the rocks of her hips, what has the color on her cheeks growing and her lips darkening with increased blood flow. I watch her nipples bead and harden further, feel the slickness in her pussy grow, her breathing speed up.

“King,” she whispers.

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