Page 141 of The Heartbreaker
“Really?” she challenged. “Keep playing with me, mister, and you’ll see what else I do to you.”
I chuckled again and uncrossed my arms, my fingers crawling down the center of her chest, between both of her tits, and across her flat stomach until I reached the start of her pussy.
“Ah,” she moaned.
I’d only grazed the very top, a spot that couldn’t even give her an orgasm. She was just that tuned in, anticipating what I was going to do to her next and how it would feel.
But I didn’t go there right away.
I brushed my fingers over the entire space, toward the inside of her thighs and around each angle, my fingers rocking back and forth between her legs and her pussy before I eventually found my way to the center.
“Ridge,” she exhaled, her back arching straight into my cock as I traced down her clit. “Yes.”
I was giving her the lightest pressure as though it were the very tip of my tongue, and I was using it to whisper across her. But it was enough to get things churning inside her—and they were.
Her moaning gave that away.
The slight movement of her hips did as well.
And then there was her breathing, the way it would hitch every time I moved less than an inch, resume back to normal, and halt the second I lowered again.
“I wonder how wet you are …”
I wanted nothing more than to dip in and feel for myself. To experience the tightness of her pussy as it clenched my finger, her attempt at trying to keep it inside her because she wanted more.
But I was saving that. I was making myself beg for it, just like I was making her.
“Do you want me to tell you?” She turned her head so her face was pointed up at me. And while she waited for me to respond, she pushed even harder, her back circling my shaft.
I tapped her clit with the pad of my thumb. “Fuck yes.” I repeated the identical action a second time. “I want to hear all about it.”
She drove the side of her face into me and arched. “Ridge, I’m dripping.” She gasped. “For you.”
Her lips touched the side of my chin, and I felt each breath she took.
“You want me?”
“Yes. But …”
“But what?”
“I need you too.”
There was a difference, and my desire built as I heard I fit somewhere in between.
“What do you want me to do to you, Addison?”
She exhaled. “I want you to make me scream.”
There were many different ways I could do that. One that I knew would work almost instantly was using my finger, and it was the easiest, given the way we were reclined.
I bent my hand around her, going past her lips, and rubbed around the outside of her pussy. “Like this?”
“Fuck,” she groaned and gripped my wrist, trying to push me deeper. “Give it to me.”
The pleading was so fucking hot.
But it wasn’t enough.
