Page 34 of His Scarlette Obsession
Instead of releasing her, I cup her face in my hands and crush my mouth to hers. She makes a sound of protest that dies the moment my tongue finds hers. Her hands fist in my shirt—not to push me away, but to pull me closer.
She tastes like desperation and want, and when I bite her lower lip, she moans into my mouth.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” I rasp against her lips.
She doesn’t answer. Can’t answer, because we both know it would be a lie.
My hand slides down her body, over the curve of her breast, the dip of her waist, until I’m bunching her dress up around her hips. Her breathing comes in short pants now, her head thrown back against the wall.
“Lykan,” she gasps, and my name on her lips is like a prayer and a curse all at once.
I slip my hand between her thighs, and she’s already wet for me. So wet it makes my vision blur with need.
“This is what your body thinks about belonging to me...” My fingers tease her flesh, which have already turned the scrap of fabric covering her womanhood soaking wet. “This is what honesty looks like,habibti.”
She shakes her head even as she whimpers, her mind warring against her flesh, even as her hips start bucking up and down.
Another whimper spills past her lips when she hears andfeelsme ripping her panties off. I slide one finger inside of her, and her mouth falls open, eyes fluttering shut as she lets out a broken cry that has every inch of me throbbing hard with need.
She’s so tight. So perfect. And the way she clenches around my finger makes me want to drive into her until she forgets every name except mine.
I add a second finger, and my Scarlette arches against the wall.
“Look at me,” I command.
When she opens her eyes, they’re glazed with need, pupils blown wide.
“Who do you belong to?”
She tries to shake her head, but I curl my fingers inside her, finding that spot that makes her whole body jerk.
“Say it.”
“I can’t—”
I withdraw my fingers completely, and she actually whimpers at the loss.
“Then you don’t get to come.”
The desperation in her eyes is beautiful. “Lykan, please—”
“Please what?” I brush my thumb over her clit, just enough to make her gasp. “Please make you come? Please show you exactly who owns this body?”
I slide my fingers back inside her, deeper this time, and start working her with ruthless precision. She’s panting now, her nails digging into my shoulders as I drive her higher.
“Please,” she sobs.
“Please what,habibti?”
“Please don’t stop.”
But I do stop. Right when she’s on the edge, right when she’s about to shatter. She cries out in frustration, her hips bucking against my hand.
“Wrong answer,” I tell her. “Try again.”
This time when I touch her, she breaks almost immediately. Her orgasm tears through her like a storm, and she screams my name as she comes apart in my hands.
But it’s not enough. Not nearly enough.
