Page 93 of Filthy Little Regrets

“Okay, well, stop talking.”

“What if I like talking to you?”

“Do you always have to bicker with me?” she asks.

“Yes.”

Rolling her eyes, she focuses on the TV, with my hand around her throat, my other arm around her waist, and my cock plugging up that pretty hole to keep my cum in her as long as I can. She’s on birth control, so there’s no possibility—or, at least, a very slim possibility—that she’ll get pregnant, but one can hope.

We make it halfway through the movie before I’m fully hard again. She pushes her hips back and forth a bit, almost as if it’s unintentional, but she gives herself away when she glances back at me.

“You want more, baby?”

She presses her lips together.

“I have an idea,” I tell her, drawing my hand down the valley between her tits, over her soft stomach, and slip two fingers through her wet folds. “Twenty questions and I’ll let you come.”

“Seriously?” she asks on a breath.

“Deadly.” I languidly circle my fingers, and she arches into the touch, her cunt gliding up my length. “First question. Do you likeTwilight?”

She chuckles and rocks back. “This will be easy. Yes.”

“What’s your favorite band?”

“I can’t pick one.”

“Top three.”

“Fine,” she says, blowing out a breath and pressing her ass back against me and circling her hips. “Bad Omens, Sleep Token, and Bring Me the Horizon.”

“So angsty.”

She shifts forward, oblivious to the way she’s making itharder for me to stay on track with this game, and looks over her shoulder. “Are you judging me?”

“No. Never.”

Her gaze roves over my face, and she finally nods, relaxing back against my chest. “Good.”

Working my fingers around her clit, I continue. “If you had one day to do whatever you wanted, what would you do?”

This is harder for her to answer right away, but eventually, she sighs. “I mean, one day isn’t much time, but I guess if I could do whatever I wanted, I’d go to Wales.”

“Why?”

“Does that count as a question?”

Fuck. “I guess so.”

“My mom was Welsh.”

I know about her family, but she and I have never had a pointed discussion about it, because we’ve always been at odds. “What’s something you haven’t even told Rose?”

She sucks in a breath, and I expect her to tell me to go fuck myself for asking such personal questions, but as I glide around her nerves, she exhales. “Okay, fuck it. I guess we’re doing this.”

“You can stop whenever you want.”

“Yeah, but you’re holding an orgasm hostage.”

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