Page 79 of His To Erase
“Shaking. Letting me take you apart like you were made for it. You act like you don’t want it, but your body’s fucking desperate.”
I kiss my way back up her stomach, dragging the tension with me. When I stand, I make sure she feels all of me—how hard I am, and how much I’m holding back.
I need to be careful or she’s going to end up naked on a pile of romance books.
My fingers trail up her chest, over the rise of her collarbone, circling the base of her throat, right over her pulse. It’s beating like it knows I could end her.
I pause there, long enough to remind her—I decide how this goes. Then I kiss her, hard enough to make her forget the name of whoever’s been trying to play in my fucking sandbox.
And when I finally let her breathe, I mutter against her lips, “You’ll come when I say you can. Not a second before. Understand?”
She glares at me, ruined and furious. “I hate you.”
I grin. She doesn’t even hear the way her voice shakes or the way her body leans on mine for support.
“No,” I murmur, kissing her again. “You want me. That’s worse.”
She’s breathless and trembling against the shelf, glaring up at me like she’d stab me if her legs weren’t jelly.
I almost wish she’d try. I’d pin her down and make her beg again—just to hear how fast hate turns to need.
I grip the backs of her thighs and lift, forcing her legs around my waist as I carry her the few steps to the table tucked behind the stacks—hidden from the main floor, but not far enough to be safe.
That’s the point. I want her squirming. I want her thinking about every sound she makes.
Her eyes widen, and her hands fist in my hoodie like she’s trying to hold onto something real while everything else inside her is slipping. I drop into the chair and bring her with me, dragging her down onto my lap with a grunt that’s more growl than breath. Her ass lands right against my cock, and she tries to squirm—tries to push off me—but my hands lock around her hips, holding her still.
She doesn’t get to run now.
“Don’t,” I warn, dragging my mouth up the side of her neck. “You grind on my cock like that, you take it. All of it. That’s how this works.”
“I didn’t agree to anything,” she snaps—but her voice is breathless and shaky. Her body clearly didn’t get the fucking memo.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders and her nails bite like she’s trying to anchor herself—or claw her way out of the need running through her. I can see the sweat beading at her temple.
I smirk. “You’re on my cock, sweetheart. That’s consent enough.”
She opens her mouth to fire back—but I yank her tank top down instead, exposing her breasts and her nipples are ready pebbled and waiting for me.
Her protest dies on her tongue the second my mouth covers the hard buds. I drag my tongue across one nipple, then suck it into my mouth, grazing my teeth just enough to test her. She’s going to learn to crave the pain I give her. My other hand slides into her shorts and she’s soaked.
She hisses through her teeth, arching her spine like a bowstring as I thrust two fingers inside—deeper this time. Rougher. Twisting just right, and stroking the spot I know she loves. Her body jerks, and her breath cuts off. Her thighs clamp down like she’s trying to trap me inside her as her pussy clenches around my fingers.
One hand flies out, bracing against the table behind her. I grab her tank and yank it lower so my mouth can get better access to her other breast, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark.
She gasps—too loud.
I clamp a hand over her mouth without even looking up.
“You want to come?” I growl. “Then stay fucking quiet.”
She moans into my palm like it’s the only thing keeping her tethered, grinding against my hand, and chasing the edge like she thinks I’ll let her fall over.
She should know better.
I finger fuck her slow and deep—working her open, my wrist pulsing, holding her right at the edge.
“I told you,” I murmur against her throat. My cock straining beneath her. “You don’t come yet.”
