Page 72 of What Happened on Roslyn Street?
Those are the words he’s been waiting for, or so it seems. His lips finally find mine, taking the leap I was too afraid to take myself. His fingers graze over my cheeks, moving to the back of my head to keep me in place as his lips press firmly to mine.
My eyes close, and I melt against him, my fingers clasping the brown coat I’ve come to know so well.
I memorize the feeling under my fingers, memorize his tongue as it slides across my lips. I let him in, tasting him and allowing him a taste of me in return. When I pull him in closer, fingers gripping his coat harder, he grunts into my mouth.
“You want me, too,” I say between kisses, smiling against his mouth. “Right?”
His fingers tighten in my hair, using the grip to pull me back, his gaze penetrating mine.
“Yes,” he says harshly. “I would have fucked you in the club with everyone watching if you let me.”
“And now?” I touch his hand, guiding it further up my thigh. “There’s no one watching. Do you still want me?”
His eyes roll back, the heat between my thighs radiating onto our hands. His long, lithe fingers grip me hard, panting out ragged breaths against my mouth.
“This isn’t moving slow,” he says. “Not at all.”
“How long are those words going to haunt me?”
He smiles a devious smile; it’s one I’ve never seen him wear.
His hand pushes higher, fingers grazing against my clothed core. “Until you’re begging for me.”
My lips pop open in surprise. “Oh, that willnotbe happening…”
The thought of begging for him has me weak between the knees—and thinking about him giving me what I askfor makes me pulse. I can’t let him know, but it shows in the way I squirm in my seat, desperately moving closer to his fingers.
“No?” He teases me through the fabric, fingers brushing against me. “That’s too bad.”
My legs spread wider, my lower lip trembling. “But…”
“Shh.” He soothes me sweetly, leaning in to press a soft, silencing kiss to my lips. “Don’t worry. I can take care of you just like this.”
I open my mouth to ask what he means, but Caldwell doesn’t answer with words. He pushes my underwear to the side, his fingers plunging into my core. His eyes never leave mine as they move through my heat, wet fingers rubbing over my throbbing clit.
“Is this what you wanted?” His words are raspy with desire.
I shudder as his finger rolls over me, applying enough pressure to make my toes curl.
“I want more,” I whisper.
“But you wanted to go slow,” he purrs, circling me at an excruciating pace. “So, that’s what we’re doing. Nice and slow. Just like that.”
A frustrated sigh falls from my lips.
Caldwell’s gaze is still on me, tuned in to my every emotion and every twist of my expression.
“I always thought you were going to torture me,” I whine. “But I never thought it would be like this.”
He chuckles darkly, his fingers lowering to tease my entrance. “And you still wanted me then, didn’t you? Did you only like me because I was dangerous?”
He poses the question so simply, but it’s one I’ve been avoiding. It’s impossible to ignore now, his eyes boring into me like daggers. His thumb rolls against my clit as he slowly fucks hisfingers into me.
My eyes flicker open to meet his, and beneath his desire, I see something softer; a need for reassurance.
“No,” I say, my breath hitching as his fingers curl into me. “I wanted you despite the danger you came with, and I hated myself for it.”
He smiles softly, hiding his head in the crook of my neck as if to hide the expression. His lips pepper soft kisses against the expanse of my skin.
