Page 48 of Snow Bound

“Feeling frisky, are we?” he murmured. He scraped his teeth along the vulnerable curve of her throat. The sound that slipped from her lips was half whimper, half moan, and all need. His low chuckle vibrated against her skin.

He slicked his tongue over and down, lapping at her like an ice cream cone, before setting his mouth on the curve where neck met shoulder. His breath puffed out between flicks of his tongue, ragged and hot. Her nipples peaked under her shirt, and her thighs wanted to fall apart to cradle his hips between them. But he lay heavy on her and she couldn’t move, and the added sensation of being restrained was fuel to already leaping flames.

“The question,” he murmured, scraping his teeth along her throat again, “is how frisky?”

“Very. Super. The friskiest,” she croaked, and his laugh danced over her fevered skin.

“I can tell.” He nipped at her neck, sharp little bites that she knew would bruise. “Your nipples are so hard it feels like they’re stabbing me, and these leggings do a terrible job of holding in all the wet heat your pussy is pumping out.”

The little trickle of embarrassment snaked its way through her senses, making her cheeks flush and her pussy dampen further. She tried to shift her thighs apart, but was ruthlessly held down.

“That’s right,” he whispered, and dragged his tongue up the center of her throat. “You want to spread those legs for me. You want me to spread you wide and feast on that greedy, slutty pussy again, even though it’s still sore. Don’t you?”

“Holy shit, you’re so good at this,” she moaned and he laughed.

“It’s not hard,” he whispered. He licked at her mouth, pulling back when she tried to deepen the kiss. “Since you’re a greedy slut.”

The sound that emerged from her mouth could only be called a whine. She didn’t care. “Let me suck your cock.”

He bit her chin. “I didn’t hear a please.”

She growled in frustration and he laughed. “That’s not going to work, sugar. You want it, you’re going to have to ask for it.”

Oh, she hated to beg. But she wanted his cock in her mouth, his taste on her tongue, and if she had to beg to get it? Well, she’d figure out a way to get him back later.

“Please.” She rotated her pelvis against his for emphasis. She could feel him, hard behind the fly of his jeans. Saliva pooled in her mouth. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me suck your cock,” she whispered.

“Mmm,” he murmured, pleased, and kissed her lightly, almost delicately. “Takes you a while to work up to it, but when you finally beg, you do it so prettily. Yes, Anna. You can suck my cock.”

Thank God, she thought.

“Tomorrow.”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“Tomorrow,” he repeated, and dropped a brief kiss on her mouth before rolling off her to stand next to the bed. He smiled as she continued to stare at him, mouth agape, in incredulous disbelief.

He flicked a finger down her nose. “Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

It took her five seconds to find her voice. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

His grin was wicked. “Nope. You’re too sore, and we both need some time to think about everything we talked about tonight.”

“I don’t need to think?—”

“I say you do, and I’m in charge. Aren’t I?”

She gritted her teeth so hard she heard her jaw pop. “I hate you.”

He winked, infuriating her. “Want me to tuck you in?”

“I want you,” she said very slowly and very clearly, “to take your dimples and your rules and?—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolded, wagging his finger again. “You wouldn’t want to get into trouble on day one.”

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