Page 65 of Point of Contention

When the tray was prepared, I transferred it to the island, placing it between her spread knees. Holding her gaze, I said, “Are you wet, Rylan?”

Her nostrils flared and she nodded.

“Show me.”

Her eyes rolled back as she slid her fingertips over the wetness coating her folds.

I took a step back and leaned my hips against the opposite counter. “Slip a finger inside.”

Our eyes locked as she did as she was told. Her lips parted on a soft gasp.

“Another.”

She licked her lips, biting down on the bottom one as she slipped a second finger inside herself.

“Have you thought of me, Rylan, while we’ve been apart?”

“Yes,” she sighed, bringing her free hand up to resume playing with her tits.

The motion of the hand between her legs quickened, her hips moving to meet each stroke of her fingers. Her lips parted on heavy breaths. Her nostrils flared; her eyes widened as they held mine.

“Have you touched yourself like this?” I whispered. “While thinking of me?”

She moaned and her eyes rolled back. “Yes, Cabot.” The words were almost a whimper as she brought herself closer to the edge with every stroke, until her movements became less rhythmic, more frantic.

I stepped forward and circled my hand around her wrist, stopping her movement. “Time to eat.”

Rylan’s mouth dropped open and I leaned forward, licking her bottom lip slowly, then I pulled her hand free of her panties and lifted her two fingers up between us. They glistened with her arousal and I nodded approvingly, then brought her fingers to my mouth and sucked the juices from her hand.

She whimpered and rocked forward, her belly flexing as the muscles in her groin continued to search for the orgasm I’d just denied her.

I finished with her fingers and set her hand on her thigh, palm up. Without being told, she placed her other hand on the other thigh, mimicking the palm up position.

“This is your ready position, Rylan.” I placed my palms over hers and stretched her fingers flat, then ran my hands up the insides of her thighs. “This is what I want to see when I ask you to get ready for me. Palms up. Tits out. Knees spread. Understand?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

I’d eased her into the lifestyle before; I would not be so patient this time around.

I shook my head in awe as I focused on the wet spot between her legs. “Just beautiful.” I looked back up into her eyes and smirked at the fire raging in those deep brown pools. “Ah, she’s angry with me.” That look in her eyes made my cock strain against the confines of my slacks, that mixture of lust and loathing that was inherently Rylan Blake.

She ran her tongue over her teeth, but didn’t say anything.

I reached between her legs and pressed my knuckle against her clit.

She bucked and leaned forward, her orgasm still so close but just out of her reach.

Raising my other hand, I slipped it behind her neck and gripped the base of her head, bringing her face to mine. Looking into her eyes, I rubbed my knuckle back and forth over her clit.

“Ahh,” she moaned, panting as her body shook with a tremor. “Cabot, please.”

Shifting my hand, I pressed my thumb over the lace covering her sensitive nub instead, rubbing quickly and firmly. “Go ahead, baby, let go.”

She moaned and closed her eyes as another tremor racked her frame.

“Look at me.”

She opened her eyes and the desire in those depths nearly knocked the wind from my lungs.

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