Page 58 of The Bachelor

I smiled. “I understand.” I pulled my pointer finger back and added the tip of my middle finger. If she was ever going to fit my cock, I needed to gradually loosen her, get her used to a size that was larger than what she used when she rubbed one out. “This is going to feel a little different, but it’s not going to hurt.” I rotated both fingertips in her wetness, spreading it over my skin, pulsing her hole. And each time I did that, I swiped her clit with fast, hard strokes.

“Oh shit,” she whispered.

“This orgasm is going to come quickly. Show me you can stop it.”

“I don’t know if I have that kind of power.”

I smiled. “You do, and you will.”

“Camden …” Her teeth ground her lip as I began to probe her a bit more. “This is … I don’t know what this is.”

“It’s about to get better.”

I wedged both fingers into her opening, holding one in front of the other, and gently wiggled them in, turning my wrist the whole time so she could feel the way they hit her from all sides.

“My God,” she gasped.

“I knew you would like that.”

She’d released the table, but her hands resumed their position there, her head lifting off the cushion behind it. That was when I drove the rest of the way in, delicately drawing those two fingers forward and back—all the while, I was pushing against her clit, holding the top, almost grinding my thumb against it.

“I want to scream.” Her voice was so seductive.

“I know.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to stop myself.”

“Control, Oaklyn. That’s how.”

The same way I was stopping myself from pulling her into my lap and plunging my cock into her. Because right now, at this very second, I wanted nothing more.

“Don’t come,” I warned when I saw her getting close, the red-shirted man now looking at her. “Stop yourself, but don’t stop yourself from letting him know how good you feel.” I nodded toward the first table, but kept my eyes on her. “He’s watching. Why don’t you give him a show?”

I waited to see her regain her control, but her clit was hardening.

“Look at me.”

Her eyes were on him and slowly shifted to me, but I didn’t think she was actually seeing me. She was off somewhere else, completely lost.

“Fucking look at me, Oaklyn.”

She blinked several times.

“Do not come—do you hear me?”

Her chest rose, and she held the air in her lungs.

I didn’t let her off easy. In fact, I made it even more challenging by increasing my speed, aiming my fingertips toward her G-spot again, adding double the pressure to her clit.

Her head pushed into the top of the booth behind her, moving up and down every time I slid into her. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” I roared, making sure only she could hear me. “Do whatever you need to do—put your mind somewhere else, talk yourself down, stare at that red-shirted motherfucker. I don’t care, just don’t come.”

“Camden—”

“Would you like some more water?”

The waiter had come out of nowhere but was now standing at the edge of our table, holding a pitcher, gazing between the both of us.

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