Page 29 of Break Me
“Do you really want to know?” I ask her, knowing I won’t tell her, no matter what she says.
“Benji,” she says, trying to make her voice hard, but it still comes out a little hoarse. From her fear. “How do you know about my mother?”
I bring my head down, my lips over her ear. “Ava,” I say, my breath touching her skin. I sense her shiver beneath me. “You’re the daughter of the mayor.” My lips hover over the shell of her ear. “You can’t keep very many secrets. Especially not from me.”
I hear her breathing hard, and I wait to see what she’ll do next. Does she believe me? She shouldn’t.
But she doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word.
I press my lips against her ear, waiting for her reaction. A whimper escapes her mouth. I move my head lower, trailing my tongue down her neck, and she lifts her chin, giving me better access, her entire body rigid with fear and something else she might not want to feel, but does.
I guess I won’t have to take her to a movie after all.
Her hands find my chest, and she leaves them there, palms flat against me.
I suck on her neck, hard, and she moans. I scrape my teeth against her skin, going lower still. Her fingers dig into my skin, outside of my shirt.
I slip one hand under her shirt, kneading her soft skin with my fingers, trailing up, over the flat plane of her stomach, over her ribcage, until I’m cupping her bra.
“You fucking anyone else, Princess?” I ask her against her neck.
I hear her swallow, and I slip my fingers into her bra, teasing her hard nipple.
Fuck, I need this. It’s better for anxiety than any amount of Xanax or weed.
“Not right now,” she manages to say, and her fingers slip under my shirt, roaming over my chest, my abs.
I pinch and tug her nipple and shove my knee between her thighs. She moans again, bucking her hips into me.
“Not right now?” I question her, pulling her nipple again, and moving my mouth lower down her throat, to her collarbone, pulling her skin into my teeth.
“I—”
I already know the answer. I know who she’s spreading her legs for. I know, and right now, I don’t care. This is nothing. This will never be anything more than nothing, but I fucking need her around my dick right now.
“This will be our little secret, then,” I tell her, pulling back and gazing down at her. Her wide eyes, her hands under my shirt, her lips, just slightly parted. That freckle above her mouth.
I take a step back, and her hands fall away from me.
“Take off your shirt.”
She doesn’t move for a second. She looks confused, and I smirk at her.
“If I take it off, I’m going to rip it in two.” I lick my lips. “And I think you probably spent too much on it for that, huh?”
I see her swallow again, and then she crosses her arms and lifts her shirt, exposing the plane of her stomach, the curve of her breasts, full and heavy in her bra.
She lets her shirt fall to the floor.
“Good girl,” I tell her and watch as she squirms under my gaze, a little uncomfortable. “Now your pants.”
Hesitantly, she undoes her belt, unbuttons her jeans, and then pulls down the zipper, looking down. Slowly, she pulls them down and steps out of them, leaving her in her bra and underwear. I turn around and walk away, hearing her sharp intake of breath as I leave her against the wall, half-dressed.
I sit down on the couch and crook my finger, beckoning her to me.
She wraps her arms around herself for a moment, reminding me of Riley in her sudden shyness. But then she rolls her shoulders back, stands up straight, drops her arms, and stalks over to me, like a model on a catwalk.
She stands between my legs and I lean back, eyes drifting over every inch of her skin.
