Page 16 of Don't Want to Fall
His low laughter vibrates against the side of my neck as his thumb skims dangerously close to my center. Another inch or two and my clit would be very fucking happy right about now.
“I’m not going to make it that easy for you, baby. I want you to beg for it a little.”
“I’m not above that,” I tell him.
“You haven’t heard all my terms.”
His thumb continues to stroke me beneath the water, moving a millimeter closer with each caress.
“What are your terms?”
He kisses my temple, sliding his other hand from my neck down to my pebbled nipple poking out of the bubbles. Ever so gently, he traces the peak with a single fingertip.
“I’ll show you pleasure like you’ve never known. All weekend long if that’s what you want.”
He gives my nipple a quick squeeze, and I arch forward into his touch. I moan as his hand cups my breast, so fucking turned on by the sight of my nipple poking out between two of his splayed fingers. His tanned hand is so much darker than my milky-white, never-seen-the-sun boob. Just watching him leisurely fondle me is intoxicating.
“The catch?” I ask, my words mostly a pant.
“If you want me to make you come, you have to keep an open mind.”
“An open mind?” I ask, momentarily concerned that I misread this situation. Maybe heisan axe murderer. Or maybe this cabin is really his secret sex dungeon. I haven’t seen the bedroom. For all I know, it could be filled with whips and chains. It’s fun reading about all that, but I’ve never actually tried BDSM.
“Yes, baby. I want you to keep an open mind about where this could go with us—beyond this weekend.”
Oh. Well, that was…unexpected.
“I’m not looking for anything serious right now,” I say, my words missing half the gumption behind them I intend. Probably because the tip of his thumb just grazed my clit so softly I’m not entirely sure I didn’t imagine it. But damn, it has me on the best kind of edge.
“Why not?”
His thumb applies a gentle pressure against my button, stroking me once.
I whimper, shocked by the intensity of him doing so very little.
“If you want me to keep pleasuring you, Devin, you have to open up to me. Tell mewhyyou don’t want anything serious.”
“You really want to know?”
“I want to know everything about you, baby. The more you share, the more I’ll make you feel so fucking good.”
To prove his point, he pulls his thumb from between my legs when I get quiet.
“You’ll still touch me, even if my answer is pathetic and embarrassing?”
He strums his fingers through my folds, as though he’s playing a guitar cord. How thefuckdoes each and every touch feel like its own pleasure experience?
“Sweetheart, if you’re honest with me, I’ll make you come so fucking hard you’ll leave your body.”
He inserts a fingertip into my channel, refusing to plunge farther in until I talk.
“Because I’m tired of getting my hopes up,” I admit.
He pushes his finger all the way in, and I my eyes roll backward as I arch into his touch.
“And?” he asks, stilling his movements.
“And the last date was so awful that it cost me my job.”
