Page 65 of Killer Kiss

He shook his head at me, confusion written all over his expression. “Jesus, who the hell have you been sleeping with? I didn’t stop. I was giving you a break. It’s called edging, Lia. Heard of it? It’s where I build you up but don’t let you come until I’ve done that over and over and over again and you’re fucking begging me for the release.”

“I know what edging is, asshole,” I complained.

I’d just never had it done to me.

Augie had an expression on his face that made me think he could read my mind.

It was ridiculous how hot he was. “If I let your hands go are you going to keep them there?”

“If that’s what you want.”

His voice took on a slightly growly tone as he let go of my hands and kissed his way down my body, over my lips, my cleavage, my belly, and finally getting back to where I was trying to control the quiver in my thighs.

He dragged his tongue along a path that cruised my inner thigh and the outside of my pussy before spearing through my folds again.

Instantly, with no thought from me, my hands flew down to his head, tangling in the dark-blond lengths while he thrust into me with his fingers. He alternated with his tongue, contrasting between the relative softness of his mouth and the stretching pleasure of three thick fingers.

He laughed into my most intimate parts, and I tugged his hair a little in protest of him laughing at me.

All it did was make him groan. “Fucking love when you do that.”

My breaths came faster and quicker, him building me up, and I marveled at the fact this man had me literally writhing on the bed, and he hadn’t even taken a stitch of clothing off.

I gazed down my body at him, watching him bring me to the edge, over and over, my orgasm creeping up, then falling back because Augie wouldn’t set it free.

I twisted and turned, alternating between clutching his hair, scratching his shoulders, and digging my fingernails into the silky sheets on his bed. “Augie,” I moaned, riding his face and his hand shamelessly. “Augie, fuck.”

His mouth was a wicked delight. His fingers perfectly made to extract pleasure from my body.

And he did it all without a complaint, without so much of a hint of frustration or impatience, or with a hope that it might lead to the same for him.

Every time I gazed down at him, he was watching me. Those blue eyes locked on my face, watching to make sure everything he did had the desired effect.

“I need to come,” I moaned, closing my eyes again, the orgasm building inside me in a swirl of pleasure that needed release.

He bit my inner thigh, not hard, but just enough I knew I’d have a hickey there tomorrow.

I was glad.

I wanted the reminder of how he’d made me feel tonight.

“Beg me, Lia. You want to come? Tell me how much.”

I moaned. “Please,” I whispered breathlessly, my hips moving faster, keeping time with his fingers that gave me more with every word I uttered. “I’m so wet. I need to come. Fuck me. Please.”

“Not fucking you, Lia. Not tonight. But I am going to let you come.”

To my shock, he flipped me onto my stomach and smacked my ass.

I screamed, a sound so hoarse and filled with pleasure I didn’t even recognize it as my own. He lifted my hips, so my ass was in the air, and found my core again, this time licking me from behind while my knees trembled with the effort of holding my weight.

His fingers filled me, his tongue on my clit, but his voice still grumbled from behind me. “I want to touch you everywhere. It’ll make this better for you, but you gotta tell me I can. Do you want that, sweetheart?”

I shivered at the pet name I’d hated only days ago.

In here, he could call me any damn thing he wanted.

“Yes,” I groaned, not even thinking about exactly what I was agreeing to, just knowing this man made me want to give up complete control of my body. If he said it would make it better, then I believed him.

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