Page 57 of Major Penalty

And then slowly – so slowly, his lips lower. Inch by excruciating inch, until they press against mine, soft and hot. Heat pools low in my stomach, then twists before firing off. His kiss is gentle and maddening in its slowness.

I feel each stroke, each press of his lips. His hand is still on my throat, still holding me down, but his mouth? It’s gentle and light, a contrast to the grip he has on me. It makes me feel like I’m losing control, but I don’t want to fight it. I’ve never wanted this before, but with him? I want more. I crave all of it.

He kisses me like he’s memorizing me, savoring me. His tongue snakes out and strokes mine softly. His teeth nip at my bottom lip, pulling and teasing. I whimper into his mouth, and his chest rumbles with a groan. The sound shudders through me as I feel his body, his weight, pressing me down.

I’ve never thought about sex like this. Not really. It’s never been about waiting for the right person or the right time. It’s never been something I’ve needed. But now? Now it’s different. I never even realized that I was waiting for something to awaken inside me. And Ares…he’s the one who’s done it. He’s the one who’s made me feel this way. And God, I’ve never wanted anything more.

My hands slide into his hair. It’s soft and thick between my fingers as I tug. Ares exhales sharply, and he pulls back. His mouth hovers over mine, his breath brushing my lips. And his eyes—blue fire.

Then I feel it. Ares’ fingers drag up my thigh, slow and deliberate.

A cruel tease and a dark promise. I part my legs without meaning to, without thinking. But Ares doesn’t take the bait. He watches me, his head tilted slightly, waiting for me to realize what I just did. What I just gave him.

His lips twitch just before his hand trails higher. Up the soft skin of my inner thigh, over the hem of my dress, but he doesn’t touch me where I need him to. I let out a frustrated sound. His lips curl upward into a slight smirk.

“Should I be good and go slow with you, hm?” he asks, his voice teasing.

Heat slams through me as I blink up at him, breathless and dazed. God, yes. And no. I want it all—slow, rough, endless. His free hand skims the line of my waist and up my ribs, his thumb brushing under the curve of my breast. Not touching, hovering, making me lose my mind.

His lips brush against mine. I lift my head, deepening the kiss, pressing my lips against him and tilting my head to get a better angle. He tastes like mint, and a trace of smoke. It’s wicked and addictive. A groan rumbles deep in his chest as his tongue claims mine, demanding, tasting, owning.

And finally, he touches me. His fingers slide between my thighs, pressing against the heat of me over my panties. I suck in a breath. Ares swallows it.

“Christ,” he murmurs as his fingers flex and drag over me in slow circles. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

A choked sound leaves my throat, and I don’t know if it’s from his words or the way he’s touching me. “I can feel how bad you want this.” His fingers flex. I arch against him, my hands gripping his shoulders, his arms, anything to hold on to. He drags his fingers against me, slowly mapping out every inch of heat. I gasp as his mouth finds my neck, my jaw, my throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses. “Do you want me in this wet little pussy, Irene?” he murmurs against my skin. My hips buck against his hand in response.

Ares chuckles, the vibration sending shivers down the side of my neck.

“I want you to be a good girl and tell me.”

The words wreck me like a bomb detonating inside my chest, inside my stomach, inside my soul. I gasp, my hands clutching at his arms, my entire body shaking under him. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never let a man touch me. Never felt this kind of need, this kind of complete, unrelenting lust. And he’s making me admit it.

Ares’ fingers press against me again, sliding over my soaked panties, and it’s enough to make my thighs shake. “Say it,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my jaw, my throat. “You knew exactly what you were doing,” he grits out, breath hot on my skin. “You wanted to see what would happen if I broke.” His fingers drag lower and press, but he doesn’t give me what I need. I whimper, my hips arching into him, desperate for more.

“Now you’re here,” he says, his voice so dark, so cruel. “Right where I want you, letting me do whatever the fuck I want. But I want to hear whatyouwant.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as heat pools low in my stomach, a pulsing ache I don’t know how to get rid of. I feel his warm breath against my lips, his mouth hovering just out of reach. “Beg,” he whispers, and his fingers press harder, deeper, teasing my entrance over my the fabric, making me feel every second of his control.

“Ares,” I whimper.

“Yes?” he drawls, slow and lazy.

I gasp, my whole body burning as he drags his fingers away. I choke on a frustrated sob, my entire body desperate for something I’ve never had.

“Please,” I say, my voice a harsh whisper.

“Please, what?” He lifts his head, eyes burning. I swallow. “I need you.”

“Need me to what?” He tilts his head, waiting.

My face is on fire, and my stomach tightens. I close my eyes, but Ares’ fingers leave my throat to curl under my chin, tilting my head toward him.

“Look at me when you say it.”

I whimper from the frustration, the need, the unbearable pressure curling deep inside me.

“Please…fuck me.”

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