Page 64 of Wicked Ends
He was intense, and headstrong, and most overwhelming of all was how he’d locked me in his sights and seemed to have no intention of looking away.
He dripped icy water over the other nipple, and I cried out, wetness flooding my pussy. I pressed my thighs together, trying to ease the desperate ache to be touched by this man.
He noticed me squirming and smiled. “Don’t worry, Professor. We’ll get there… but we’re going to take our time… so you can tell me where the money is?—”
“You just want the money? Nothing else in the bag?”
He paused, and I could tell I’d thrown him. So, the bag wasn’t his.
“You didn’t look in it,” I ventured. “Isn’t it yours?”
He cocked his head. “If I say no, will you give it back like a good girl?”
“It still gets you riled up, so it still serves a purpose. Stop pursuing me, and you’ll get your back bag.”
He shook his head in amusement and reached for another ice cube. My body screamed in delicious anticipation of his teasing.
This time, he tugged up my bra an inch, covering my nipple with it, then rolled the cube between his fingers and pressed it to the fabric right over the bud, sending a jolt through me. Holy fuck, it was so damn cold and yet so fucking good.
He was watching my nipple contract even harder through my bra, his gaze trailing down the drops of water that had dripped down my stomach to the top of my panties. He brought the ice cube to my lips, sliding it on them, and then slipped it inside. Hisfingers followed, and I couldn’t help it, my tongue rubbed over them, greedy for his touch.
“Stop pursuing you?” he repeated, his attention snaking back down to my wet chest and heaving breasts. “When you’re the first interesting person I’ve met in this town? Never.”
Then he leaned in and latched his hot mouth around my nipple, lace and all, surrounding it with warmth. The contrast sent me dizzy. I arched into him, thrusting my chest in his face like I wished he would consume me. His tongue laved me through the bra, and I wanted nothing more than to feel him on my skin.
“The bra—it’s in the way,” I panted out, beyond embarrassment now. Beyond pride and dignity. This was the problem with Marcus Bailey. He made me forget myself… and that was a scary, scary thing.
“I thought I was supposed to stay away from you?” he mocked gently as he tugged the bra down, and then his lips were on my skin, circling my nipple and biting on it, hard enough to make me cry out.
I rocked against the chair, desperate for some kind of friction, but there was nothing there. A huge emptiness swelled up inside me… and I needed to fill it. I needed to fill it with him.
He moved to the other breast, his hands kneading and massaging, my full tits overflowing the bra, propped up for his perusal.
His hand slid down my tummy, over the lumps and bumps that I’d usually feel self-conscious about, but he didn’t pause or even seem to notice. His touch was possessive and hungry. He stroked my pussy through my panties, and I shook.
“Is this what you need, birthday girl? Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you… as soon as you tell me what I need to know.” His words were a rough murmur.
He slipped a finger around the side of my panties and touched me skin to skin. I nearly shot off the chair. I was so hot and wet and desperate.
“Stop denying us both, Ari—stop holding back. Let me in, dammit,” he growled and bit down on my tit a little harder.
The pleasure with the pain-lined edge weakened me. It was so, so good. It was everything.
“Stop denying me, stop lying to me, stop running away and just accept it.”
His fingers stroked down me again, and I tugged at the material tying my wrists, desperate to grab his arm and force his hand to go faster.
A vibration pierced through the haze of teasing and pleasure, unwanted and jarring. Marcus furrowed his brow at the outline of his cell in his jeans pocket.
“No! Don’t answer,” I heard myself plead.
He smiled again, satisfied that I was so fucking addicted to his touch, I couldn’t bear it if he stopped.
“Be a good girl and wait… Why don’t you think about where the bag is, Ari, because you’re not coming until you tell me.”
He pulled his hands away from me and stood, putting his phone to his ear.
He frowned into the distance. Whatever he was hearing wasn’t something he wanted. He turned away and strode toward thebathroom, shutting the door so he could talk in private. Once the cloud of pleasure faded slightly, reason snapped back into place. I had to get out of here, or else there was no way I wouldn’t crack.
