Page 52 of Perfect Convergence

She lets out an adorable little whine.

My hands drop to her thighs, playing with the hem of her dress. Then I trail them upward, painfully slowly, until they’re tracing her breasts. When my fingers reach her collarbones, her head falls back against the wall.

“Maybe I should just do this for a while. See how worked up I can get you.” To be honest, I’m not sure how much patience I have left. But she doesn’t know that.

She whimpers, and one of her hands reaches to pull her dress up. I snatch it away.

“Oliver!”

“You can touch me, princess. And I’ll touch you.”

Her eyes flare all the way open. And then, slowly, she places both hands on my chest. Her fingers travel lightly, tracing the curves and edges of my body. My jawbone, my cheeks, my neck. My arms, my shoulders, my stomach. With every tiny touch, she sends tendrils of warmth and pleasure through me.

When her hands reach my hips, she glances up at me questioningly.

I nod. “Go on.”

Her fingers brush downward, grazing my cock. At the same time, I let my hands cup her breasts. My thumbnails run over her nipples through her dress.

“Ohhh.”

“Don’t stop, Wren.” I repeat the action, staring at the way her nipples peak perfectly through the red fabric.

Her fingers wrap around my dick the best they can through my pants, and she strokes it in up and down motions. For a few blissful seconds, the noises of the club fade away, and the only thing that exists is us.

But then a shrill, female laugh cuts through the air, too close for comfort. Wren tenses.

I pause, listening for footsteps, but no one rounds the corner. When I step back, Wren grabs my arms.

“Please don’t stop.”

When I look at her, I see a little thrill in her eyes. “Does the thought of getting caught excite you, princess?”

She bites her lip and avoids my gaze, staring at my chest instead.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Taking her hand, I place it back on my dick. Then, with a small kiss, I pinch her nipples.

Her back arches, and her grip on my cock tightens.

“Tell me what you want, Wren.” I nip at her ear before groaning. Her hand feels so goddamned good.

“I want your fingers,” she whispers. “Inside of me. I’m off my period.”

“Mmm. I’d do it either way, princess. Do you want me to make you come?”

She nods.

One of my hands stays on her breast, tweaking her nipple, while the other falls in between her legs, pushing her dress up slightly. When I push her thong to the side, her free hand comes up to grip the back of my neck.

She’s so wet she’s practically dripping. “So needy,” I murmur smugly in her ear. Then I slip a single finger inside of her.

“More,” she moans.

I oblige, adding another and curling them into her. She whimpers, her strokes slowing from distraction.

“Don’t slow down, Wren, or I will too.”

She gasps, picking up her pace again.

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