Page 76 of The Final Faceoff
“Keep them there,” he orders, his breath hot against me. “Or I stop.”
I freeze, the threat sinking in. He wouldn’t?—
But the look in his eyes tells me he absolutely would.
“Good girl,” he praises when I obey, my fingers curling into my own skin, resisting the overwhelming urge to pull him closer. “Now let me hear you beg for it.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, already unraveling. “Please?—”
His tongue flicks over me again, slower this time, deliberate. “Louder.”
“Please,” I whimper, my voice breaking. “Please make me come?—”
He groans against me, and then—he gives me exactly what I want. His mouth hovers over me, warm breath ghosting over my slick heat, sending a shudder through my body. But he doesn’t touch me—not properly. Just enough to make me tremble, to keep me on the edge, aching for more.
I try to shift my hips, to get closer, but his hands tighten on my thighs, keeping me spread and utterly at his mercy.
“Not so fast,” he murmurs, his voice all amusement and control. “You still haven’t told me exactly what you want.”
Fuck, he’s infuriating. I don’t even remember what I’ve said, I only know that if he doesn’t make me come right now, I’m going to explode with need. My head tips back against the pillow, a frustrated whimper slipping past my lips. He knows what I want—he can see how soaked I am, how desperate I’ve become under his touch. But he wants to hear me say it.
“Just do it, please,” I gasp.
His fingers skim up my thigh, stopping just short of where I need them. “No, babe. I just don’t do shit. I deliver what you want—only when you ask nicely.”
I swallow hard, my body trembling. “I need you. All of you.”
He hums like he’s considering, like he isn’t already rock hard from teasing me this long. Then, his voice drops, low and commanding.
“Do you want my fingers,” he taunts, dragging one along my soaked entrance but not pushing in, “or my mouth?”
A strangled moan escapes me, my thighs twitching in his hold. “Both,” I whisper, wrecked.
His dark chuckle vibrates through me. “Greedy girl,” he murmurs, pressing the lightest kiss to my inner thigh. “That needy, huh?”
I nod frantically, my breath catching when he finally—finally—slides a finger through my slick folds, teasing my entrance but not pushing inside.
“Tell me,” he commands.
I exhale sharply. “I need both. Your fingers—your mouth—I need you to make me come.”
His groan is low and dark, like my begging is exactly what he wanted. “That’s better,” he praises. “Good girl.”
And then, without warning, he gives me everything.
His mouth is on me, hot and wet, his tongue flicking over my clit in slow, devastating strokes. At the same time, his fingers push inside, stretching me, filling me, curling just right.
I cry out, my body jolting at the sudden rush of pleasure, my hands gripping the sheets because if I touch him—if I dare pull his hair or try to control the pace—he’ll stop. And I can’t handle that.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against me, the vibrations of his voice making me shudder. “Take what I give you, Hailey. Feel how fucking good I can make you feel.”
His fingers pump into me, slow and deep, his mouth relentless against my clit, working me over until I’m trembling, gasping, completely undone beneath him.
“Such a sweet little cunt,” he groans, his tongue pressing against my swollen clit in a way that has my entire body tightening. “So fucking tight?—”
I sob his name, my orgasm already creeping up, fast and unstoppable.
He lifts his head just enough to smirk. “Go on, sweetheart. Let me feel it.”
