Page 92 of The Last Heir of Elsewhere

Her eyes went wide and her blush deepened, but from the way she looked at me, and ran her tongue over her lips I was sure it was curiosity, not fear, I saw in her expression. Arousal. Want.

There was no mistaking the challenge in her face, like she was daring me to stop her, to change my mind, as she slowly lifted her hand and sucked her fingers into her mouth.

Fuck me.

I watched her swirl her tongue around her middle and pointer finger, wetting them, and showing me exactly what she’d do if ever I had her for real.

Then, she pulled her finger from her mouth, and let her hand travel lower. Her fingers dipped beneath the hem of the shirt she wore—my shirt, and I watched her trail her hand up the inside of her thigh.

“Show me,” I commanded. “Pull your shirt up.”

She obliged, obediently reaching down with her other hand to pull the hem of the shirt up to rest against her stomach. “Like this?”

My eyes widened, my pupils dilating, and I ran my tongue over my lips. “Higher.”

Her smile turned teasing, and she inched the shirt slowly over her body, tormenting me with how slow she could move.

“I will rip that fucking thing off you right now,” I said roughly.

She laughed, and tugged it over her head, baring her entire body to me.

I sucked in a breath, and had to close my eyes for a moment to bring myself back under control. Her body was perfect, soft in all the right places, but it was more so her confidence that held me captivated. It was the way she watched me, like she could see right through me, and although she was naked, I was the one who was vulnerable.

“Begin again,” I told her roughly. “Lick your fingers.”

She obliged, smiling as she did so, and then popped her hand back out of her mouth. “Now what?”

I froze. By the gods, if she let me direct her, tell her what to do…

“Run your hand over your inner thigh.”

She settled back against the mountain of red pillows covering the bed, and again obeyed, trailing her fingers slowly against her too-soft skin until I felt it was me she was teasing, rather than herself.

“Use your other hand to play with your nipples.”

Her nipples, already peaked, turned impossibly harder as she circled them with one long finger. “Don’t you want to help?”

I shook my head, as I couldn’t tell her “no” without lying. Fuck, I did want to “help” as she put it, but more, I wanted to see how far I could push her. How long would it take before she balked, or would she meet my every challenge with one of her own.

“I’ll join in when you’ve earned it,” I told her. “Spread your legs wider. Good. Now, run your fingers through your cunt.”

I watched her falter slightly, and for a moment I thought she would tell me to fuck off. That this was over. She certainly didn’t need any more males directing her, or treating her as if she couldn’t care for herself.

But then, as if she were pushing away any embarrassment, she obeyed.

I smiled. Perhaps she liked giving in to others’ direction, in the same way I craved the control of commanding everything around me. Perhaps in the way that my greatest desire was total omniscience, Lonnie preferred the freedom of being taken care of, and not having to worry about everyone around her.

I stared down at her, wet and ready for me, and licked my lips. In a moment, she’d forget that hesitation entirely—I’d make sure of it.

At my direction, she trailed her fingers up and down, growing wetter with every pass. Her mouth opened, and I watched her entire body relax, the tension draining from her, as she let out a long sigh.

“I want you to massage just around your clit, now,” I told her. “Not too hard.”

She closed her eyes, and did as I asked, brushing soft circles over her most sensitive parts until her legs began to shake slightly.

“Are you wet for me, love?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

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