Page 85 of Betrayed
I run my hand over the heat, and she moans involuntarily, a sound that goes straight to my cock. I move her legs a little wider with my knee; she responds obediently, exposing herself. She’s wet. The sight takes my breath away.
“Eight.”
“Nine.” Her voice trembles. She’s in it now.
I give her the tenth harder, a satisfying crack that leaves my palm stinging.
She cries out and pushes into me, shameless, seeking. “Ten,” she shudders.
I reward her with a caress of my fingers, my skin slipping against her sweet wetness.
She pants. “Please.”
“Please, what?” I want her to say it, to ask.
“More.”
I let my hand rest lightly on the back of her neck, not pressing, just there. “Such a good girl when you remember your manners.”
I slide a finger inside her. I lean forward, teeth grazing the shell of her ear. “You need my cock?”
“Yes.” She quivers around me.
I tighten my hand on her nape, grounding her, then take my finger away. “We’ll stay quiet. So many men outside.”
I give her five more quick hits, switching cheeks so the heat spreads evenly, and she’s trembling with desire. “You’re doing perfectly.” I insert two fingers into her slickness, and it drives her crazy.
She presses her forehead against the cushion, a curse catching in her throat. “Please.”
“Spread your legs for me.”
She obeys, arching with trembling legs. “Lucian, I?—”
“Not yet.” I slide my fingers over her again and circle her clit just enough to make her gasp. She whimpers. It’s music. I pull my hand away and bring it down again in a firm slap that has herbiting the cushion to quiet her cry. Heat blooms across her skin. “So pretty.”
I drop to my knees behind her because I need to taste her. I kiss the curve of her, tongue teasing, inhaling her scent. When I lick between her cheeks, she ignites with a shocked moan. I give her two more, soft, open-mouthed kisses covering her pussy, ones that make her shake.
I stand because if I stay there, I’ll lose myself before it's time.
“Hands stay where they are,” I tell her, tugging my belt open, zipper down. My cock is hard enough to hurt. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” she breathes, fingers tightening around the sofa. “I want you. Please.”
I curl one hand under her belly to guide her into the position I want and push inside with a slow, claiming thrust. We groan in unison. She is hot, slick, and impossibly tight around me, and for a moment, the only thing that exists is our connection.
And that’s exactly what I need right now.
“Fuck,” I grind, forehead dropping between my shoulder blades as I anchor inside her. “You feel—so—fucking—good.”
I begin to move, hips rolling, maintaining my punishing but controlled rhythm. The green shutters could blow off the windows. I wouldn’t notice.
I stroke her warm, punished ass, and she moans, leaning into the push and pull. She’s close. I can tell by how tightly she squeezes.
I hold her hips steady. “Who decides?”
“You,” she gasps. “You do. Sir.”
“Good girl.” I drag two fingers down to her clit and circle deliberately. Her whole body clenches. “Not yet.”
