Page 89 of Can't Stop Watching
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," becomes my new mantra as pleasure builds with terrifying speed. My wrists strain against the metal cuffs, the slight bite of pain only heightening every sensation.
Just as the tension coils impossibly tight, ready to snap—Dane stops again. His fingers freeze inside me while his other hand pinches my clit, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough to halt everything. The approaching wave of pleasure recedes like the tide pulling back, leaving me gasping and confused.
"What the hell?" I pant, yanking at the cuffs in frustration. My body throbs with need, every nerve ending screaming for release.
Dane looks up at me with a wicked smile. "Not yet."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" My voice cracks as his fingers start moving again, building me back up with torturous precision. "This is—oh God—this is cruel and unusual punishment."
He hums against my inner thigh. "You'll thank me later."
And then he's back at it, tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony until I'm right there again, teetering on that exquisite edge?—
Only for him to stop. Again.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" I half-sob, half-laugh in disbelief. My legs shake uncontrollably, and if not for these handcuffs, I'd have collapsed in a puddle by now. "What are you doing to me?"
That's when I remember Tessa's breathless account of her hook-up with that neuroscience PhD student last semester. "He edged me for like an hour, Lila. By the time he finally let me come, I swear I blacked out. Best orgasm of my life."
I'd rolled my eyes at the time, thinking it sounded more frustrating than fun. Now I get it. Boy, do I get it.
"You're edging me," I say, the realization hitting me as Dane's fingers start moving inside me again, slower this time, deliberate.
"Smart girl." He kisses my hip bone. "The longer we wait..." His thumb brushes over my clit, making me jerk. "The better it feels."
"Or I die of frustration first," I gasp as he curls his fingers just right. "That's a possibility too."
"Trust me," he murmurs, and damn it, I do. Despite the exquisite torture, despite hanging here exposed and desperate, I trust him completely with my pleasure.
As he builds me toward that cliff edge for the fourth time, I surrender to it, to him, to whatever mind-blowing experience he's determined to give me.
I've lost count of how many times Dane has taken me to the edge, only to pull back at the last possible second. My legs tremble uncontrollably, and I hang from the handcuffs, my wrists aching in the most delicious way. Sweat beads between my breasts, my entire body flushed and hypersensitive.
"You're fucking evil," I gasp as he withdraws his fingers once again, leaving me pulsing and empty. The whimper that escapes me is embarrassing, but I'm beyond caring.
"Evil?" Dane stands slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. "I prefer... thorough."
He begins unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness, revealing inch by torturous inch of his muscled chest. The tattoo peeks out—'death before dishonor'—stark against his skin.
"Is this—" I swallow hard, watching as he shrugs the shirt off completely. "Is this a strip show or an interrogation technique? Because I'll tell you anything you want to know"
"Maybe both." His voice rumbles through me as he tosses his shirt aside. "You ready to confess yet?"
"To what?" I can barely focus with him standing there shirtless, all hard planes and battle scars. Jesus, the man looks like he was carved from stone.
"To how badly you want me inside you."
My laugh comes out more like a sob. "I think my current situation speaks for itself."
His hands move to his belt buckle, and goddamn if that simple motion doesn't send another flood of wetness between my thighs. The metallic clink as he pulls the leather through the loops might be the sexiest sound I've ever heard.
"How many times have I edged you now?" he asks, dropping his pants to reveal gray boxer briefs that do absolutely nothing to hide his massive erection.
"Seventeen thousand," I mutter, only half-joking. "I've died and been reborn at least twice."
Dane's laugh is low and dangerous as he steps closer, pressing his nearly naked body against mine. The contrast of his hot skin against my overheated flesh makes me hiss. His hardness presses against my stomach, and holy shit, how is he even real?
"One more time," he whispers against my ear, his hand sliding between us to cup me possessively. "Then I'll give you what you need."
