Page 63 of Our Little Monster
“Like that?” I asked as I dunked the first piece of bread in, and he nodded, placing a soft kiss on my shoulder.
“Just like that,” he murmured as his hands slightly moved up and down on my hips. My body was practically humming with need.
If he put his hands down my pants right now, I didn’t think I would have the willpower to stop him.
I would let him play out some of the fantasies I’ve had about him, aboutthem, ever since I played with myself that first time. It had become a recurring thing, and I wasn’t sure how much longer that would sustain me.
Did I want to have them?
I shouldn’t want that.
I shouldn’t want them.
Ugh, for fuck’s sake.
His hand brushed against my hip again, a fleeting touch that sent goosebumps pebbling across my flushed skin.
I glanced over my shoulder at him, our mouths mere inches apart now, and I wanted so badly to bridge the gap, but all the thoughts of how I shouldn’t go there kept littering my mind.
I could sense the internal struggle within him too. Could he feel my apprehension? Conflict mirrored in the furrow of his brow and the hesitation in his movements as he stilled behind me.
We were standing on the precipice, and the choice was ours to make—mine to make…
He’d never cross that line unless he knew I was sure of my decision.
I could step back into the safety of the known or surrender to the intoxicating pull that threatened to consume me—us. He had to feel this, too.
I blew out a breath, turning my gaze forward again, and at the same time Thorne released me. My mind had won, and he knew it.
Maybe he had just started to feel the tensions rise in my body from where my thoughts had gone. I didn’t know, but he moved to the sink to finish up the rest of the dishes as I finished making the French toast. Tensions began webbing together though the room all over again. As soon as I was finished with the toast, I had to get out of here. I needed air.
“I finished the toast. Can you do the bacon and eggs?” I asked, my voice weaker than how I wanted it to sound.
“Yeah, of course,” he said, taking a long sip from his coffee as he peered over the rim of his mug at me.
“I need some air,” I admitted as I walked to the side door and opened it, heading out into the garage. The chilly breeze cooled my heated skin, but it didn’t take away the fucking pulse between my thighs.
I’d have to take care of that tonight.Again.
No matter how hard my mind tried to keep me on what would be considered theright path, my body betrayed me in every regard to it. I was practically fucking panting.
I paced in the garage, feeling the cool winds from the open garage door. I tried to breathe, but it didn’t help as much as I thought it would.
I couldn’t show my face and walk back through the kitchen to get back to my room, not yet. Tensions were far too high in there. How awkward would that be? But fuck, I was desperate for the pulsing to stop.
I was so damn needy; I couldn’t walk back through and see Thorne. I’d fuck him without a second thought right now.
I glanced around the garage but only saw the array of tools neatly placed around on the shelves with Nox’s car sitting in the center. Another wave of pleasure coursed through me at the thought of getting myself off in his car. Similar to the way getting myself off in Bastian’s bed always did something to me.
I didn’t give it a second thought; I didn’t have the time too. I’d make it quick.
The doors were unlocked, and I hopped into the backseat. I had my hands down my pants without even shutting the door all the way. I panted out a moan as my fingers teased my clit. I could already feel my orgasm building.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back as I started to quicken my strokes. Then a hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me. I gasped out in surprise and Nox was standing there, looking down at me before he climbed into the backseat next to me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I demanded, my voice breathy.
He immediately ripped my pants off down my legs and I yelped in shock; the cool air running over my bare skin had gooseflesh skittering over me.
