Page 76 of Cherry Beats

My smile faded as I looked up at him, even though I was already turned on. I hated the way I’d made him feel about himself, and I knew I needed to make that right someway, somehow.

“Face forward,” he instructed. “And don’t you move until I tell you to, okay?”

I nodded against the pillow, turning to face the big window while my body buzzed with nervous excitement. My thighs pressed together without permission. The commanding tone to his just-woken voice was more arousing than anything else, and there wasn’t a single part of me that thought twice about letting this happen.

I wanted this to happen again… and again, and again, and again.

My ears were attuned to his every movement as he walked across the room. A cupboard door of some sort opened, and then it closed. The top of a bottle popped, and then I heard him drop some ice cubes into a glass before he poured something over them. I could hear the sound of the ice cubes clinking inside the glass as he walked until he was standing right behind me again, his presence as clear to me as my adoration for him.

The drop of cold liquid that hit my back had me sucking in a harsh breath and pushing my chest out at once.

“Shit,” I hissed, a bubble of laughter falling free. “Cold.”

“Stay still,” he warned calmly.

My shoulders relaxed as another ice-cold droplet hit my warm skin in the same place before it began to cascade towards the mattress. Then another drop fell, closer to my waist this time, before the drops came harder along my exposed thigh and calves. When it got to my ankle, Presley pressed an ice cube against me, and I was torn between hissing and giggling again as the mixture of sensations sent my mind spinning with confusion. It was cold, but smooth, teasing, yet somehow insanely erotic.

Presley trailed the ice cube up the entire length of my leg, dipping it into the creases of my arse cheek before he lifted it over my hip, down into the small of my back, and up the entire length of my spine. My mouth fell open, and my body arched away from the cold, my sex burning to life with want and need.

Press it there,I begged silently.

“Presley,” I whispered.

He ignored me, lost in his own movements. Before I could say another word, the remnants of that ice cube were trailed over my shoulder down to my nipple and then dragged up my neck and across my jaw before he circled my lips with it three times.

My tongue reached out to taste it, needing the moisture and wanting to sate at least one of my thirsts. When Presley pushed it into my mouth and under my tongue, I bit down gently around his finger and held him there.

“You want toplay?” he whispered seductively.

I nodded, desperate to look at him, but I kept my eyes focused on the window as he’d told me to. I released his finger and sucked down hard on what was left of the ice cube in my mouth.

“Damn, Cherry.” He hissed through his teeth.

Another ice cube was pressed against the bra line of my spine, makingmehiss that time as he held it there and waited before he trailed it down to the crease of my arse. Then he pushed it through my folds, circling it around the heated entrance of me that was begging for him to apply some pressure. Friction. I needed friction, and I needed it badly.

The moan I released was feral, my head falling back and my eyes closing as Presley moved the cube up to my clit, pressing it down and teasing before he backtracked and dragged it all the way back out, up my spine, across my shoulder, and he brought it to my parted lips again.

“Still thirsty, baby?” he asked, tugging my hair back with his free hand and forcing my eyes to open and look at him. Even upside down, he was fucking perfect, and every part of me ached for him to be inside of me any way I could get him. Fingers, tongue, dick, I didn’t care. I needed him to fill me—to make me complete—to make me pay for all my sins against him.

I nodded again, licking my bottom lip to accept the cube he was teasing me with. When he slipped it under my tongue this time, he dropped his lips to mine in an instant, kissing and teasing me, the coldness dancing between us. Using the very tip of my tongue, I pushed the bigger cube into his mouth, a hand slipping out and reaching up to fist his hair.

I was wet everywhere, desperate to get sweatier and demand that he didn’t waste time with foreplay. All I wanted was for him to screw me. Presley had other ideas, and when he pulled away, chomping on an ice cube and smirking that smirk of his, I was left gasping, letting the remnants of ice trickle down my throat while my body burned for more of his kisses.

He reached back for his glass again, taking a long sip of what looked like whiskey, holding it in his mouth as he eyed me. Ever so slowly, he lowered his face down to mine, parting my lips with the pad of his thumb before he pursed his lips and poured some of the whiskey from his mouth into mine.

I accepted all of it.

The minute the burn hit the back of my throat, I gasped, needing it again.

“More,” I panted, making his eyes come alive with satisfaction.

He repeated the process once, twice, a third time until I was swimming in alcohol, ice cubes, and desire.

My body shifted, attempting to roll over onto my back, but Presley quickly shook his head and pushed me back in place, facing the London skyline again.

“I told you not to move.”

“I need to see you.”

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