Page 7 of The Spice Play

And lower.

And lower.

How the hell had I gone from fully dressed to wearing nothing but my underwear when he was still wearing all of his clothes?

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he said. My breath stuttered when his hand trailed back up my now bare thigh, hooking on the bottom hemline of my boyshorts. An inkling of disappointment blossomed in my gut — I may not have the most confidence in the bedroom after everything with Morris, butGod dammit, I’d been through a dry spell and was hopeful this would end it. “But my offer still stands.”

“Your offer?” I swallowed.

A single finger dug in harder on the back of my neck, urging my head to turn toward the counter beside me — right where I’d left my purse.

Oh, God.

Thatoffer.

“Get it out,” he ordered.

His lashes fluttered shut, and just as I hesitantly moved my hand toward the bag, his mouth closed around the most sensitive part of my breast. Heat blazed in me instantly, spreading like wildfire from that one point of his lips outward, across my chest, down my abdomen, settling between my thighs. His tongue lashed against my nipple over and over, sending that rippling blaze over me again and again.

Goddammit, I wanted him to touch me.Reallytouch me.

Hands shaking, I fumbled with the flap of my bag until I could flip it open. My fingers wrapped around cool silicone, but I wished they were wrapped around something else instead, something warm and rigid and velvety…

His grasp on me changed in an instant. Suddenly, I was no longer held around the back of my neck, and instead, his fingers were digging into my rear, lifting me up while pulling my boyshorts down with a precision that left me unable to breathe.

My bare ass met the cold linoleum of my countertop, and my jeans that had sat pooled around my ankles fell to the ground along with my slip-on shoes and boyshorts.

This man, Sebastion, had me completely fucking naked.

Almost reluctantly, he detached his mouth andwiped his lips with the back of his hand, taking a small step back. His eyes raked over my body, starting at my heated face and dropping lower, down to my chest, which rose and fell erratically, down to my breasts, my stomach, and the little crease just beneath my rib cage, down to my hips and what lay between them, down to my thighs, my calves, my dangling feet.

“Fuck,” he breathed, so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat.Does he not like what he sees?“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just burning this image of you into my brain.” He closed the distance again, his hand wrapping easily around the smallest part of my wrist and lifting it from my bag. “So fucking pretty. But I can guarantee you’ll look even better with this against your clit.”

Sebastian plucked the vibrator from my hand, one finger coming down on the little power button, and it roared to life.

“Tell me, Nelly, are you a long buzz or a pattern kind of girl?”

A loose wave of brown hair fell forward into his eyes as he smirked down at me, his hips slotting themselves between my parted thighs resting on the countertop. “People actually use the pattern settings?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t met one, but someone must if they include it on these things.” His free hand hooked under my chin, tipping my face up toward him and pulling my gaze from the buzzing and gurgling toy in his hand. “Get your thighs on my hips.”

I bit my lip and did as I was told.

“Tell me if I do anything you don’t like. Understand?”

“O-Okay.”

Fingers splayed across one side of my neck as hereleased my chin, and within a fraction of a second, everything was overwhelming. His hand snuck between our bodies and placed the mouth of the toyexactlywhere it needed to be, forcing my muscles to contract and pleasure to radiate from the setting he’d picked. More than anything, however, it was the way his head lowered, the way his stupid, perfectly proportioned lips ghosted mine, the way they pressed in as a shaky breath rattled his chest.

He kissed me.God,did he kiss me.

He delved between my lips just in time to catch a gasping moan from my mouth, devouring it and dulling the sound. He tasted like the whiskey we’d been drinking, and through the haze of the pleasure and the alcohol and the chaos of what I was doing by even allowing any of this to happen, all I could do was try to keep up.

Vibrations roared to life against my clit, accompanying the onslaught ofair pulse technology, and I had to grip his chest to keep from slumping back against the countertop.

---