Page 46 of Taking Chances

“Tell me to stop,” he almost growls.

I should do exactly that. I should stop this and go to bed.

But I won’t.

I can’t.

“Don’t stop,” I say on a shaky voice.

His hand turns from exploring to possessing, gripping my thigh as he inhales sharply.

His gaze is pure hunger as he turns to me. “You’ll have to be completely quiet, Firecracker. Can you do that? Can you be quiet for me?”

I nod eagerly, overestimating myself.

“Come sit in my lap.” I obey instantly. I don’t think there’s a limit to what I would do when he makes me feel like this. Wild, untethered, and so freaking sexy.

Bringing both of his hands to my top, he roughly grabs my breasts before pinching my nipples. I huff out a breath, proud to have contained a moan. His right hand stays on my breast, while his other travels my stomach down to the waistband of my bottoms. Typically, I would be self-conscious having his hand on my belly, but I’m way too turned on for that. I release a quiet whine as his hand dips lower, connecting to my clit.

“Shoot,” I murmur, eliciting a low chuckle from him.

“So fucking wet for me,” he whispers in my ear, his warm breath tickling my neck.

One of his thick fingers dips into my heat and staying quiet becomes a real freaking problem. I breathe through my moans, doing my best to obey him.

“Good girl,” he coos, and this time a moan can’t be suppressed.

He pinches my nipple harshly in response and another loud moan escapes me.

“We can’t have that, can we?” Our friends are just upstairs, they could lean over the balcony and see what we’re doing. But as his second finger joins the first, I’m ready to admit defeat.

“I won’t be able to stay quiet. I can’t.” My voice is a panicked whisper.

“Don’t worry, Firecracker. I’ll help you.” He places a gentle kiss below my ear, setting my body on fire. The hand that was on my breast goes around my shoulders, his palm clamping over my mouth.

Relief floods me as I realize we’re not done. I won’t be punished for not staying quiet.

The need is too big, his fingers stretching me beautifully. My shame flies over the wooden fence, down the snow-covered mountain. The stars above match the spots appearing in my vision as my hips lift up and I start riding his hand, the palm of it massaging my clit almost painfully. My moans are muffled by his strong hand on my face.

“Just like that, baby. Such a good girl,” he croons, spurring me on. Moving the triangles of my top to the side, my tits bounce in and out of water as I shamelessly impale myself on his fingers.

Pleasure builds low in my belly, and I know I’m close to coming.

“Play with your nipples,” he orders, apparently sensing it. Wasting no time, my fingers find my stiff peaks and roll them. His hand muffles a feral moan that comes out of me.

Fuck. This is too good. Shit.

His fingers press into a mind-blowing spot inside of me, and with another roll of my fingers, I’m coming. My pussy spasms, my whole body shaking as I experience the best orgasm of my life. When I get down from my high, he lowers his hand from my mouth, and I realize I’m sitting on a steel rod. There’s no other way to explain the stiff member between Lennox’s legs.

I’m spent, but the thought of having him inside of me is all-consuming. An apprehensive hand darts out to touch it, but he grabs it almost instantly.

“No need. This was for you,” he says, filling me with disappointment. “Besides, we’re just risking someone hearing us.”

I dip my head in agreement, though my mind is spiraling. I hate not being able to return the favor. But he’s right. It was pure luck they haven’t heard us already. And the thought of them finding out fills me with dread.

Standing up, he gets out of the tub, holding out the robe for me. I trail drops of water down his sculpted chest, to the tiny swim shorts stretched out by his jutting erection. His powerful thighs flex, drawing my gaze to them. I just had an orgasm, and I’m nowhere near sated. Not when he’s standing there looking like a Booktok thirst trap. Finally, he clears his throat, and I look into his darkened eyes.

He’s probably freezing, waiting for me to get out while I’m too busy ogling him. “Sorry, sorry.” I rush to get out of the water, not realizing that my breasts are still out.

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