Page 83 of Sunshine
Even if right now, I’m the one going insane.
Dylan’s thumb lands on my clit, rubbing back and forth as he slides a single finger inside me. “Tell me you get off on torturing me,” he demands.
“Ne— Ne— Never,” I gasp as an orgasm threatens to undo me.
And then, without warning, Dylan’s gone. His hand disappears from between my thighs, his fingers are no longer wrapped around my throat, and the scent of him fades as he steps back.
Dylan licks me off his fingers as he says, “You’ve got two choices, Penelope. You can admit to being a total brat, and I can reward you with the kind of orgasms that’ll ruin you for the rest of your life. One after another after another…”
A whimper sounds deep in my chest, and Dylan smirks.
“Or,” he continues, “you can keep playing this game, and I’ll edge you until you’re begging me to let you come. And I won’t. Not until you admit that you’re only happy when you’re driving me crazy. That you like playing games. That you’ve been waiting for me to lose it and…do what, exactly?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I creep my fingers toward my clit, wanting to show him that I don’t care about his threats. I can make myself come if I choose to.
His gaze flickers downwards, and I freeze.
“Go on,” he says in an ominously quiet tone. “Touch yourself. I dare you.”
Shit. He wouldn’t really leave me here to sleep alone, would he? I’m wound too tight to risk it, too desperate for these orgasms he’s dangling like a carrot, so I do as I’m told and drop my hand, but I don’t admit that he’s right. That I’ve been pushing him toward this moment for years.
Dylan smiles at my obedience—or maybe it’s the way I try to glare through the haze of my arousal.
How the fuck did this happen? I was supposed to be the one holding the cards tonight. I was the one who was going to push Dylan to his limits so I could see what happened when he lost control. Now, the only one here at risk of losing their mind is me.
“Good girl,” Dylan murmurs, and I wish those words weren’t magic between my thighs. He plucks my robe from the pile of clothes and swings it around my shoulders. “Now go to my room, lay down on the bed, and spread your pretty thighs.”
I narrow my eyes even as my traitorous body propels me toward the bedroom door. Dylan takes hold of my arm as I passhim, stopping me so he can whisper in my ear. “I’ll have you begging to come within minutes.”
I summon up all the strength I can to stare him down, letting a smile play on my mouth as his gaze drops to my lips, and it occurs to me that Dylan might think he’s in control here, but I’ve got him right where I want him. Wrapped around my finger.
“I can’t wait to see you try.”
twenty-five
Dylan
I take a momentto find my balance after Poppy leaves the bedroom, closing my eyes and breathing in the cherry scent that lingers in the air. JesusChrist. She knows how to get to me, and she likes it. And fuck me. So do I.
I tug at my pants before I step out into the hallway, then pause to appreciate the fact that the house is all mine. For perhaps the first time in my life, I don’t have a parent or a sibling sleeping under the same roof. Only took thirty years, but it feels freaking incredible.
I slip silently into Izzy’s room to make sure she’s asleep. She’s still wearing the tracksuit Poppy bought for her but it’s soft enough to be comfortable overnight. Her bunny is snuggled in the crook of her arm and her chest rises and falls with even breaths, so I turn down the glow of her nightlight until it’s barely more than a pink simmer.
Nothing can prepare a man for the love that comes with having a daughter or the consuming determination to give her the world and yet protect her from it at the same time, so I’m almost out the door again when I pause and look back.
“You’re falling for Poppy, aren’t you?” I ask. I imagine Izzy’s answer—her trademarkyes!—and I close her door with a shake of my head. “Me too, Little Bee. Me too.”
I wait in the hall a moment to be sure she doesn’t stir, and when I’m confident she’s down for the night, I tiptoe down the hallway to my bedroom door, slip inside—and freeze.
I expected Poppy to do the opposite of what I ordered her to do. Make me work for it. Maybe even go so far as to get dressed again and argue with me about being bossed around. The possibility of sparring with her always makes me hard. What I get instead is Poppy naked, flat on her back with her knees raised and open. She turns her head toward the sound of the door opening, then smiles as she stretches her arms up over her head and arches her back off the mattress with an almost feline grace.
“You think you can break me?” she says. “Go on. Give it a try.”
I flick the lock on my door just to be safe, then peel off my t-shirt as I circle the room. I stop at the end of the bed and stare at her pink pussy on display, glistening and tormenting me in ways her words never could. And by the cocky smirk on her lush mouth, she knows it.
And she’s going to pay for it.
I reach into my back pocket and pull out the palm-sized vibrator I retrieved from her tote bag, then I kneel on the edge of the mattress between her feet, switch it on, and hold it up where she can see.
