Page 85 of The Final Faceoff
She lets out a dramatic sigh. “As long as you make me come, yep.”
A low growl rumbles in my throat. “Were you planning on finger-fucking yourself while you were sleeping, Hailey Bean?”
“Obviously,” she mumbles. “It’s been too many minutes since the last time I came, and I’m needy again.”
Fuck.
This woman is going to be the death of me. I groan, gripping the hem of her dress, pushing it up slowly, exposing her toned legs, the curve of her ass. Her panties are already drenched from earlier. I press a kiss to her knee, then to her thigh, inhaling her scent. My cock twitches, throbbing against my zipper, demanding attention. But I rein it in.
She needs rest. But she also told me exactly what she wanted. As I debate, her voice comes out wrecked, sleepy, but firm.
“Leif, I need your fingers and your mouth. Pronto.”
My grip tightens on her hip.
“You don’t tell me what you need, baby,” I warn, voice low, dark. “I decide what I’m going to do with you—how I’m going to make you feel good, to worship you.”
Then I reach into my bag, pulling out one of the vibrators I stole from her drawer. Her breath stutters. I flick the setting to low—barely a whisper of sound.
Then, gently, slowly, I press it against her swollen clit. Her body reacts immediately. A sharp inhale, a shift of her hips. She’s already close, already wound so fucking tight from the teasing.
“Back against the mattress, open your legs wide, baby.”
She obeys, moving sluggishly, her limbs loose, pliant, trusting. I tug her dress up higher, finally pulling it over her head, baring her completely. Now she’s naked on my bed.
I palm her perfect tits, rolling her nipple between my fingers while the vibrator hums against her clit.
She whimpers, back arching, grinding against it.
“Look at you.” My voice is all hunger, all pride. “So fucking desperate for me. You like this, don’t you? Being my good girl while I play with your pretty little cunt?”
Her breath hitches.
I press my mouth to her nipple, sucking hard, biting down just enough to make her gasp.
“You want my fingers stretching you open, don’t you?” I murmur, my voice vibrating against her skin. “Want to feel them inside while you come all over my tongue?”
She nods frantically, panting.
Not good enough.
“Use your words, sweetheart.” I flick my tongue over her peak, then bite.
“Yes! Fuck, Leif, please?—”
“Good fucking girl.”
I slide two fingers inside her so easily, she’s already dripping down my hand. She cries out, hips rolling, taking everything I give her. I thrust slow, stretching her, curling my fingers just right, letting the vibrator pulse against her clit in perfect sync with every deep stroke.
Her moans turn into gasped, incoherent words.
“You love this, don’t you?” I press deeper, letting her ride my hand, my tongue still working over her nipples.
“Fuck—yes?—”
“You love how I stretch this needy little pussy, love how I fuck you open with my fingers.”
She whimpers, thighs trembling.
