Page 160 of Red Flag
He cocked his head to the side, letting me see the quick flicks of his tongue. “Why are you denying yourself, Livid?”
“Because I don’t want it to end,” I admitted, my voice quaking on a tremble as he put another finger inside of me.
“Do you want me to tease you?” he rasped against my inner thigh before planting a kiss there. His fingers slowed inside of me, the slowest drag in and out, but reaching for my g-spot each time, just the tiniest tap.
His grin was mischievous at my drawn-out breaths. “Do you want me to deny you? Until my hand is dripping? Until you beg, Livid?”
I nodded, arching into his hold. The look on his face always made me want to clench my thighs. He gave it in public, in private, between my legs. Over dinner. When I was dinner.
Those hot eyes, his lips slightly parted as he looked me over, almost as if he was in awe.
“You say I’m in control,” I rasped, feet planted firmly on the ground. I started to bounce, making his fingers fuck me slightly faster. “But I’ve always had control. I’ve always trusted you; I know I can stop this whenever I want.”
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered and that was it. I was going to come, it was out of my control.
“The bed,” I managed to pant. “The bed.”
And then my feet were not on the floor. They were in the air. He’d thrown me over his shoulder, and I was dangling as he took me to our bedroom, a hard smack against my bare ass as we went before he flicked the light switch on.
That was important.
Because he knew if I couldn’t see it was him…
That had been part of the problem last time.
He pressed kisses into my back as he unzipped my dress before lying me down and running his rough hands up and down my body, up my stomach, chest, breasts, before slowly bracing my throat with a cautious look up.
I lifted the hand signal to show him I remembered it and then, hand on top of his, tightened the one around my throat and dragged the other down to my pussy.
When he ran the lightest strokes against my clit, and I shivered in anticipation, I pulled at his trousers, greedy to have him as much as I was greedy for his touch.
“No, no,” he groaned in my ear as I started to go light-headed. My eyes were in the back of my head, nothing but pleasure in my veins. “Livid, you don’t get to touch me until you come again.”
My neck turned, searching for him — always searching for him — and his tongue was on mine in a slow, wet kiss as his strokes picked up, still light, but faster. My heels dug into the duvet, trying to climb him to get to his cock.
“Your greedy pussy takes my fingers so well,” he breathed.
“Harder,” I whimpered in his mouth. “Harder.”
Before, it had been to tell him what I liked. Now, it was totell him I was ready.
“Good girl.”
And I was coming, body quaking, hands clawing at his back to stay on earth as I rode the thick and fast waves with a cry of his name.
My face was buried in his neck as I recovered and he planted small kisses in my hair. When my breathing calmed, he lifted my chin to kiss me on the mouth. Adoration bore into me through those blue eyes.
But I could only stare for so long when that unattended erection pressed against my leg through his trousers.
He chuckled as I pulled them and his boxers down, mouth on the head of his cock the second it was free. His laugh became a grunt as I took him down my throat, over and over. His hand tangled in my hair, gently guiding me up and down his length.
When he swore, it always encouraged me to take him further, fuck him harder.
But opening my eyes at the sounds he made, I saw a square of his upper thigh had been shaved. On it was the number 18.
I lifted my head to frown at him in question. “When did you get that?”
“Last week,” he said, shuffling back on the bed to sit up. “Look closer.”
