Page 40 of Tangwystle
I scoffed, “No, just what’s offered, then.”
His fingers dug into me, but I never thought once to ask him to let go. And after a few seconds, where I half wondered how badly of a yelling match this would become, his hands surged upwards, under my dress.
He gripped my breasts, his touch firm. A panicked noise choked in my throat, but not because I wanted him to let go. No, I was desperate, my bottom wiggling.
“I am not afraid to take what is offered to me, Tangwystle.” His voice sliced over me. He stood, towering over me, and pushed me until my back touched his desk. His hands never stopped, and my legs widened as he stepped forward. “Did you think about joining us?” he asked.
A frown split my face. I didn’t understand the disappointment I read on his face.
“You’re wound up,” he said. “Do you need some help?”
I couldn’t exactly pretend otherwise.
He cocked his head. “Do you want some help?”
I could feel my face growing red and puffy. My brow wrinkled as I frowned harder. I’m sure I looked like the perfect picture of a temper tantrum. But my leg kicked out, and he lifted one eyebrow.
“You want me to help you?” He chuckled at whatever he saw on my face. And then I felt his breath on my inner thighs. “Isn’t it nice, fairy, when you just voice what you want? When you actually ask for it?”
He sounded like every rich person I’d ever known. But I couldn’t say that. I gasped instead when his tongue firmly licked me.
His hands held me in place, and he tsked under his breath.
“That’s a good girl, fairy,” he said, biting back a laugh when my hips tried to buck again.
My eyes began to water. “You call her love.”
He licked and sucked, and I thought he hadn’t heard me. Or maybe he just didn’t care. But he lifted his head, pausing his ministrations.
“Gretel needs to be reminded.”
I lifted my head. “That you love her?”
There’s no denying how sharp my voice was. How brittle it was.
He cocked his head to the side again. His eyes softened. “I could.”
And then he attacked my pussy again.
My heart hammered for different reasons. Because of his assault and because of his confession.
“Do you know what brought us together?” Baz asked, his tongue tracing my folds. “The first thing I noticed about her was how she looked at you.”
I tried to sit up again, but he pressed my waist down and sucked my clit. The sensation built only for him to back off again.
“I see how you look at her too,” he told me softly.
“Stop it,” I demanded, my muscles quivering.
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
It didn’t feel okay. It felt too big. Too different. Too scary.
And yet I knew nothing would change me. Forever would I look at Gretel. Would I admire her. Want her.
At first, I thought I was an anomaly. Someone who admired both men and women.
Baz’s appearance in my life gave me something I’d always craved. He was hopeful and silly yet direct in what he wanted. I admired him and found myself inspired.
