Page 88 of Snap Shot

I perk a skeptical eyebrow. “We didn't make a bet.”

“Well, I'm not leaving here without it.” Those cerulean eyes flicker and grow, as mischievous and playful as the quirked corner of his smirk.

And you won't have to, my pussy cries.Shut up, you.

I glare back. “What do you want?”

“Bend over.”

A scoff coughs out. “Excuseme?”

“Sorry.” Landon's tongue darts out to wet the rosy peak of his perfect Cupid's bow. “Simon says, ‘bend over.’”

“You're not Simon.”

“Says who?” He frees one hip from his grasp. That smirk grows to an absolutely devilish grin, all playfulness draining from his face.

“Says—” I get cut off by the nine-inch wand Landon retrieves from his pocket and taps on my sternum.

“I found somethingsuperinteresting on the washroom counter, Indi.” Tap. Tap. The line of muscles flanking my throat tenses as he moves the rounded head over my breast. “What's the saying? Finders keepers, losers weepers?” His thumb presses into the power button, the charcoal grey toy fluttering and bobbing to life.

I take in the shallowest breath of air, eyes wrinkling shut as both of my nipples purse under my shirt.

Landon drops his hand. I exhale out relief, but it's short-lived, because my near-empty lungs resume their ridiculous waver as he draws a languid line down the middle of my body, past my belly button, lowering and lowering until there's nowhere lower to go. His lips murmur onto mine. “Now bend over and let me see that pussy cry.”

A rapid spin has me ass-up over the back of the sofa.

“Spread those pretty legs wide.” Landon taps both ankles with his feet as his hips line up with mine. I listen. “Good girl.”

His fingers climb the stiff tendon on my inner thigh, the vibrating, pulsating silicone mound following their path and waking goosebumps across my skin. He growls when hooking a finger into the inseam of these stupid shorts. “Fuck, you were naked under this the whole time?”

The wand prods circles over the split of my legs, purposefully missing the needy spot. His other hand flattens over the curved slope of my backside, smoothing and soothing. “These shorts are annoying.” He pulls aside the fabric to expose me.

“Landon.” I mean to scold, but it sounds more like a beg. “You're gonna stretch them out.”

“We'll have to get rid of them then.”

There's no use protesting. I'm already a quivering mess.

With Landon's harsh yank, my shorts puddle to the floor. I scream out a whimper when the globed tip of the wand rolls over my clit and a sharp jolt of pleasure rocks through my lower half. My jaw drops open, hands fumbling for support in the plush cushions.

“Who do you think of when you use this, Indi?” His mouth sears the question into my skin, free hand pushing my shirt up to skim over the ridges of my spine.

The punishing, increased speed of the hammering has me blubbering. “Oh, my God.”

“Wrong answer.” Landon bumps up the frequency again.

My head tosses, back arching at the fiery surge of pleasure.

“Try again. Who do you think of?” His firm hold on my hip guides them through a grinding motion, urging and goading my approach to the brink.

“You.”

He kisses the base of my backbone, trailing his lips up, still holding the wand against the tender bundle of nerves. “Say my name.”

“Landon!” I choke out, eyes watering from how hard he's throttling my clit.

“Sounds sofucking amazingfrom that smart mouth of yours, Indi.” His hand reaches up to palm my nape, fingers squeezing the galloping pulse at my throat. It elicits a writhing, desperate simper. “You're gonna make me come again with those goddamn noises.”

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