Page 99 of When Hearts Remember

All I can do is feel the thousand sensations coursing through me—the way my nipples strain against my dress, the heaviness of my breasts as we bob and move to the music, the goosebumps pebbling over my skin as his fingers rove back down, sliding to my hips before dippingunder the cutouts again and this time hooking onto the strings of my thong.

“I can smell you. You make it so hard for me to—”

He thrusts against my ass and lets out a tortured sound—something between a hiss and a groan. I clench my thighs when I feel a hard rod pressing against my curves.

Ethan Anderson, the ice monster, is turned on and burning hot.

For me.

It makes no sense, and yet, somehow, it does. I can’t bring myself to analyze this right now.

“What?” I whimper, belatedly realizing he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Your arousal. I can smell it.”

“Y-You’re crazy.”

He grunts. “Don’t deny it, my little hummingbird.”

Hummingbird.Why does this word make my heart flutter?

Unbidden, he tugs on the strings of my thong again and the fabric bunches and digs into my folds, hitting the swollen bundle of nerves.

A scream tears out of me and he quickly clasps his hand over my mouth. “Only I can hear those sounds.”

Raw possessiveness. Obsession in a sentence.

My knees give out, but this time it isn’t from pain, it’s from the sharp pleasure coursing through my veins. He supports me with his muscular body as he swivels us toward the floor before standing back up again.

I might not remember if I’ve had sex before, but I’d imagine it’d feel something like this.

“You were saying?” He sounds smug.

“You arrogant bastard.”

He chuckles, the deep sounds direct caresses to my pussy.

“Won’t admit it, huh? I’ll need to convince you then.”

Without warning, he moves his fingers again, tugging, pulling at my underwear strings like I’m a marionette. The sparks begin anew and I whimper and thrash in his hold, my head dropping back against his chest.

“Shit. Fuck me,” he grunts, his fingers moving faster.

My thong saws up and down my pussy, each graze hitting my clit at the precise angle. Blinding sparks appear in my vision as my lips part in an open gasp, the pressure building between my legs at the speed of light.

“Want me to stop?” he rasps, pausing his fiery torture.

Wordlessly, I clutch his wrists, not stopping him, but egging him on. “Please…I need this.”

He works a quickening rhythm and I can only imagine how we look on the dance floor in the middle of a crowded room, our bodies plastered together, my legs slightly parted and his hands inside my dress through the side cutouts.

His hard cock digs into my back.Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

“Oh my god, yes,” I moan and I swear I can feel him grow harder against my ass.

My pussy pulses as he digs my thong sideways, flicking my clit in an expert rhythm.

Wetness leaks down my legs and I arch my tits out, my body wanting to explode, wanting to fall off this cliff and take this maddening man with me.

---