Page 68 of Set on You

“I start up here...” With achingly slow precision, I methodologically run my hand down my neck, over my breasts, and over my stomach. It might be evil, but I want to break him. I want to watch him lose all restraint.

His heated expression spurs me on as I dip under the hem of my dress, bringing it upward. My fingers tease around my inner thighs, and between my legs. My skin is on fire from his eyes alone. “Sometimes I’ll do this.” I slip my hand under the thin lace of my panties.

He practically lurches forward when I make contact with myself. From the way he’s clenching his fists, eyes dark, focused on my fingers under the lace, I’d say he’s on the brink of losing the battle.

I moan, fingers continuing to swirl around my warmth to relieve the pressure. Up until now, the changing room make-out was the hottest moment of my life. But him watching me like this, vulnerable in front of him, officially takes the title.

Just the way he’s looking at me, as though he’s fully with me, is all-consuming. It’s different than I’ve ever experienced before, to the point of being petrifying. I want to lose myself completely in him and no longer exist. I don’t think I could ever be the same, not after this. By the way my heart aches for him in this moment, I know if he hurts me, I’ll be completely wrecked. I’ll be broken beyond repair. And strangely, the risk feels worth the reward.

I grip the side of the tub with my free hand, swiveling my finger, the pressure building with each second.

“You’re so wet,” he pants over me, the silky evidence of his effect on my fingers. Our chests are rising and falling, the tension thickening with each passing second he’s not touching me. In fact, his hands are clasped on the sides of the tub, knuckles white, confirming that the hold he has on me has nothing to do with the physical world.

His voice alone makes me shiver. I watch the cords in his forearms flex and shake. He grunts as he loses restraint, reaching to place his hand over mine. I have no idea what he’s about to do, but I’m fully on board with a first-class, one-way ticket.

Eyes locked to mine, he moves my own finger in and out of me at a tantalizingly slow pace.

“Aren’t you breaking the rules?” I manage teasingly, stifling a moan.

“Partially.”

I’m unable to come up with a word to describe the sight of him pleasuring me with my own hand. We’ve broken ourno touchingrule, but he’s still semi-abiding by avoiding kissing my lips and not touching me anywhere else except to guide my hand, which is maddening in itself. He leans in to press a slow kiss to my temple,our breath blending together as he moves another one of my fingers in, his own hand grazing my warmth in the process.

“Oh god,” I gasp, clenching around myself as the jolt of pleasure hits me. I’m numb to anything and everything except what he’s doing to me.

He pumps my fingers faster and harder, holding on to the base of my neck with his other hand. A bloom of heat shoots from the base of my spine, rocketing to all the forgotten places of my body. My inner walls pulsate, closing in around my fingers, faster and faster as the tension builds to an unmanageable level.

“Let go for me.” His low, raspy voice in my ear is all it takes for the knot to finally untangle.

A blinding shock wave rips through me, fast and unexpected. I’m shaking as I clasp his hair in my fingers, desperate to anchor myself to him as the tidal wave hits me, over and over, slamming me home. I never want this to end. I never want to forget how it feels to have Scott look at me the way he’s looking at me right now, his eye contact unbreaking as he watches me unravel in front of him.

He lets out a strangled moan, pressing his lips to my forehead, threading his fingers through my hair, cradling me as I struggle to catch my breath. “Christ. I want you so badly right now.”

“How badly?” I eye him, still riding the residual waves of my high.

He lets out an exaggerated sigh before grasping his hands on the sides of the tub. “Bad enough that we need to get out of here. Now.”

I flash him a wicked smile, nodding toward the very strained zipper of his jeans. “You already broke the rules. Why not let me help you out? It’s only fair.”

His teeth are clenched as he pauses, hanging his head. “Wecan’t. I’m two seconds away from breaking all rules and shoving you onto that counter.”

My cheeks flush. “I’m not opposed.”

“You’re killing me.” He lets out a muffled groan as he steps out of the tub, his excitement very prominent, at eye level.

I’m immobile for a few beats, just staring at it, mouth open, wishing he didn’t have a superhuman level of discipline.

“Hey, my eyes are up here.” He smirks at me, obviously pleased with himself. Then he turns, making his way out of the en suite, whistling, as if nothing happened.

When I don’t follow immediately, he pokes his head back in. “All good?”

I give a wild nod, drastically failing to remain unfazed by his soul-rocking smile.Yup. Cool. Just pretending I wasn’t about to jump your bones and ravage you in return for the best orgasm of my life. Kindly fetch me a straitjacket,because I’m incapable of practicing basic self-control.

chapter twenty-two

IT’S BEEN Aweeksincethe bathtub.In the days since, Scott has been trying to pretend that everything is completely and totally okay by practicing rigorous self-control and ensuring a safe distance between us. Two couch cushions away. Avoidance of small spaces. At all times. In fact, he nearly dropped his water bottle when our fingers lightly touched upon exchange, as if my skin was lava.

As much as I’m keen to abide by the old-fashioned “courting” arrangement, I am a millennial, after all. Instant gratification is beyond tempting, particularly when he brushes against me, dutifully spotting me as I do my squat sets.

---