Page 22 of Brutal Heir

“Watch her,” he says, his attention on the screen. “See how she touches herself, how she takes the weight of her breast in hand. Tell me where you think she’s enjoying it most.”

The instruction allows me to change position, to readjust my hold as he watches. I settle for cupping the underside, but still high enough that the point where my index finger meets my palm is sitting right at my nipple.

“There,” I announce, in a voice I barely recognize. I glance over out of the corner of my eye. Seeing how much he’s enjoying this makes me want to do more. “Now, what’ll she do?” I ask, continuing on like we’re watching someone else.

“I’d like to see her pinch her nipple.”

I give myself a tiny squeeze, but the change in his breath tells me he noticed. It’s empowering, knowing I’m holding this man’s attention.

I stretch the moment out then slowly curl my finger, moving a half inch then another. He’s focused on the screen. I can’t decide what I want to watch, him or me.

I bring my thumb in, pressing both fingers against the hard peak. His lips part. What’s he imagining? I pinch, sending a shot of sensation through my head and down my body. A little shudder runs through me, leaving a wave of goosebumps. Again, he noticed. Men are visual creatures.

With that in mind, this time I don’t wait for him to tell me.He’ll want to have me play with my nipple. I roll it a bit, just enough to make the material of my blouse twirl. The change in his breathing fascinates me.

What started out as a hesitant caress, leaves me emboldened. I bend my finger and use my knuckle now. The caress is harsher, a deeper action. And big, bad Ezequiel Mata is barely blinking as he watches. I turn back to the screen.

“The contrast in size is a little surprising,” I say, as if it’s a casual observation. “I’m not sure if her hand is small, or her breasts are large.” I leave it there, waiting to see if he’ll pick up from where I left off. My heart is pounding as the silence is drawn out.

“I think it’s her hand,” he replies. “If it was a man’s hand, her breasts might just fit perfectly.”

He doesn’t disappoint. Now to lead him along the path to do what I want.

“You think so, huh?” I ask with a skeptical tone. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it…unless someone comes along to show us.”

“I suppose so.” He slips a hand behind my waist. “Hmm, looks like you knew what was going to happen.” He cups my right hip and slides me over with little to no effort. It’s as if I don’t weigh a thing, which we both know isn’t true. “Have you seen this movie already?”

“No,” I reply as he comes close enough for me to feel the heat of his chest against my back. “I’m not really into”—I catch myself before I say porn—“this kind of movie.”

“Hmm, you might change your mind before long.” His hand comes around my side. I raise my arm, giving him room tomaneuver. He follows along my forearms until he’s cupping the underside of my breast, sending a shiver through my body.

With my hand in the way, he’s only able to fit two fingers along the underside. I have the absurd image of him holding a glass of wine. No, maybe it’s more like a brandy snifter, considering the size.

“I don’t know that that’s quite fair,” I add in a skeptical tone.

“How’s that?” His index finger moves along my pinky. I want to bite my lip as I wait for him to just move me out of the way so he can touch me properly.

“Well, they’re not on equal ground. His hand is bigger than hers, so you can’t really tell.” That should be enough to have him pick up on what I want.

“That’s because he’s still settling in.” This time his left hand comes up to slide along my side.

Trust Ezequiel to throw me for a loop. He practically has me tucked into his shoulder. He has me lean back as his thigh presses against my left hip.

His fingers come up over my left breast, widening as he settles over the fullest part. He zeros in on my nipple, pushing hard against the stiff peak. Then he bends his finger and uses the knuckle against his thumb to mirror what I’m doing.

A gasp escapes me. The sensation is powerful enough to bow my back. I barely have enough mental capacity to turn my head to one side. The blasted man takes it as an invitation. He moves in close enough to have his beard brush along my jawline.

Ezequiel wraps his fingers around mine, gripping me tight enough to shoot sparks throughout my body. A whimper escapes me.

“You see? A perfect fit, just like I expected,” he says in a gravelly voice.

“Mmmhmm.” I can’t quite think straight as he takes his time to learn the feel of my body. It’s one hell of a reaction, considering it’s all over-the-clothes action.

I must have said it out loud because he releases my hand. I snap my eyes open, watching his fingertips glide over the goosebumps, burning a trail along my shoulders as he pushes the straps down.

Chapter 11

Ezequiel

---