Page 77 of The Breaking Point

As I imagined this scenario, I circled my clit, feeling it harden under my fingers. I thrust a finger inside my tight sheath. I added a second because I knew Brady’s fingers were thicker than mine.

What would it feel like to have him finger me like this? Would his eyes grow dark as he felt how wet I was?

I threw my head back as I finger-fucked myself. I rubbed my clit with my other hand. All the while, I could feel Brady’s hand connecting against my ass.

Over and over again, spanking me, telling me how I was a bad girl who’d better stop testing his patience.

Do you want me to fuck you for real?he’d growl. He’d delve between the seam of my legs to find my wet pussy.How badly do you want me to fuck you, baby?

I groaned aloud as I increased the speed of my own hands. I arched upward, not caring that I was probably getting water all over the bathroom floor. I imagined that it was Brady touching me as I rubbed my clit, that it was Brady hooking his fingers inside my pussy to hit my G-spot, that it was Brady telling me to come right then and there—

And then I heard a knock on my door. I paused, uncertain. Then another more forceful knock.

“Grace, it’s Brady.”

I nearly launched myself out of the tub like a crazy woman. I grabbed a robe and put it on as fast as I could.

“Coming!” I yelled. I realized the double entendre and had to stifle a hysterical laugh.

I threw open the door so fast that I surprised Brady.

“Grace?” He looked me over. “Sorry, were you in the shower?”

“Bath.”

As if sensing something was off, Brady narrowed his eyes.

“You were masturbating again,” he growled.

I blushed. I realized that one of my hands was near the doorframe, which wasn’t far from his nose, which meant—

I pulled my hand back. “Did you need something?” I asked primly.

Brady just pushed past me into my room. He started pacing like a caged lion.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he burst out. He shot me a look of desperation. “You can’t keep doing this to me.”

“I’m confused.”

“This.” He gestured vaguely. “Jerking off. All of it.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Um, you interruptedme. What I do in my own hotel room is my business.”

Brady wasn’t even listening to me. He was just pacing and raking his hands through his hair. He really did seem like he was at the end of his rope.

“Besides, you got me all hot and bothered by kissing me,” I pointed out.

“That’s the thing. We can’t keep doing this.”

Not this again. “Brady, I already know what you’re going to say. ‘I’m not right for you, this can’t happen, it’s wrong, I’m actually a prince in disguise and I’m betrothed to another woman.’ Blah, blah, blah.”

That little speech made Brady stop pacing, at least. His lips twitched. “A prince in disguise? What Hallmark movie is this?”

“An annoying one.” I sat on the edge of my bed with a huff.

Brady eventually sat next to me. “No, I wasn’t going to say all of that. Not this time. After our kiss downstairs, I had a good, long think in my room.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And did you come to some new conclusion?”

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