Page 50 of The Ring Thief
“Are you making me come, or am I finding someone else to do it?” I ask snarkily, refusing to get into the fact that his lips on mine felt more intimate than his fingers between my legs, and I definitely didn’t want to be reminded of the kiss we’d shared after we’d said, ‘I do’.
His hand dips behind my neck and makes quick work of pulling my hair out, fisting the strands roughly. My scalp smarts, but it travels like a live wire down my body, straight between my legs where my clit throbs.
“Fine,” he growls out. “No kissing. But this is what you’ll be thinking of on your date.” It’s a promise, one that sears through me, like an injection of lava into my veins. “You’ll be sitting across from some asshole, remembering what it’s like to be touched by me, owned by me. And you’ll remember that you own me, too.”
He hooks his fingers under the gusset of my panties and yanks them to the side, groaning deeply when he feels the damp lace. His fingers slide through my folds with practiced ease, his eyes glinting with triumph at finding me so wet and ready.
“Soaked,” he murmurs hotly. “You missed me, baby?” It’s a taunt, and I snarl, ignoring the warmth swirling low in my belly.
“Stop talking!”
Amusement tips the corner of his mouth up, and then he’s jerking my head back, and pressing his face into my arched neck, mouth nipping and sucking at my flesh. I quickly grab at his hair, yanking him harder than he did.
“Do not mark me, or this is done,” I warn him.
He chuckles and eases back, but then his fingers are on my clit, the touch delicate and teasing, making my whole-body pulse with need. My legs tremble, knees practically knocking together, and I bite viciously at my lips, refusing to let a single sound slip out. He doesn’t deserve them.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, his raspy voice muffled against my throat. His fingers drag through my slippery flesh until they’re poised at my entrance, dipping one inside me teasingly before he pulls it back, leaving my inner muscles clenching down on nothing. My chest heaves, my breathing shallow, as the touch returns to my clit, too light to do anything but wind me up.
I yank on his hair again, digging my nails into his scalp. “Get on with it,” I order breathlessly. “Stop playing around.”
“Isn’t that what toys do?” I lean forward and bite his shoulder, hard, right through the cotton of his shirt, and he jerks back with a curse.
I pull back, smirking when he glares at me. “I’ve got somewhere to be,” I remind him, and two fingers spear into my body without warning. Caught by surprise, I cry out, going up on my tiptoes. He lets go of my hair, grabbing the bodice of my dress and yanking it down under my breast, my lace bra getting the same treatment. His head lowers and then he’s sucking on my hardened nipple, his teeth grazing me teasingly. I throw my head back with a gasp.
His arm is moving against me, thrusting hard and fast, his palm bumping against that bundle of nerves. A flush crawls over my chest and up into my cheeks, feeling like I might actually die if he were to stop.
My breath comes out in harsh pants, and I wrap an arm around his neck, using him to hold myself up. He lifts his head, pinching my nipple between his fingers, rolling it and then tugging hard, the sensation shooting me higher until nothing exists but him and what he’s making me feel.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs, and I’m too far gone to tell him to shut up, squeezing my eyes shut as the world goes fuzzy and bright all at the same time. His fingers leave me, expertly seeking out my clit.
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” It sounds like he’s talking from a great distance away, every atom of my being focused on the glide of his fingers against my clit. “You’re mine, baby, and your body knows it. You can go on a date with another man, but this here—” His fingers are inside me again, probing and hard as they scissor apart, stretching me out. He rumbles out a rough sound, his chest vibrating, as he curls his fingers determinedly. “This is mine,” he rasps. “No matter what else happens, it will always be mine.”
My vision whites out and my mouth is open, a soundless cry escaping as he shoves me over the precipice, my orgasm crashing through me before I even realized I was there.
He’s breathing hard above me, sweat dotting his upper lip as he eases me back down with gentle swipes of his fingers. He’slet my nipple go, his entire palm holding my breast, and I know he must be able to feel the heavy thud of my heart under his hand.
He straightens and I peel my lids open, watching as he pulls his hand out of my panties, letting my dress fall back into place as he takes a small step back, leaving me slumped against the wall. I’m not sure what I expect him to do, but it definitely isn’t for him to press his glistening fingers into his mouth and suck. I watch him wide-eyed as he thoroughly cleans them, with a dark look of pleasure. Embarrassment and lust mingle in me, my body pulsing like I didn’t just come.
Finally done, he pulls them out and smiles with wet lips, rasping, “Delicious.”
Realizing my state of undress, I tug my bra and dress into place with great dignity and then meet his expectant eyes. I’m not sure what he wants from me, but I got what I needed from him. When I catch my breath and trust my voice to be steady, I raise an eyebrow, staring him down. “You can go now. I’ve got somewhere to be.”
CHAPTER 23
Lily
By the time I'm planted on a stool at Astoria's opulent bar, I'm still shaky and off-center, ordering a white wine from the friendly bartender.
My dad had been right when he'd told me that feelings didn't just turn off like a faucet. I'd gotten cocky with the distance I'd forced between us, thinking the space had granted me some kind of shield against my own feelings…But Declan is still the person who'd become my life for a year, the person I believed I'd spend forever with, even if he is a big fat liar. The love is there, even though it's being smothered by waves of resentment and anger.
Fifteen minutes passes quickly, leaving me with my wine almost gone and no notification from my date. I frown, wondering if he could be just stuck in traffic, but annoyed that he wouldn't even consider warning me that he might be late.
Just as the thought occurs, my phone vibrates in my clutch resting on the bar. I pull it out, finding a message waiting for me.
Glen: Hi. Lily? I can't make it tonight.
Glen: My mom's having an emergency with her cat, and I have to help her. I'm really sorry.
