Page 145 of A War Around Us

She didn’t reply, trying to omit my answer. But I wanted to hear it. I wanted her to cry it out, and for her heart to hear it through its vibrations.

Done with the reflection, I wanted to see her body before me.

I shifted, teasing her entrance while my hold on her hip slithered to between her legs.

Katia suppressed a moan, closing her eyes, and I slid my fingers through her wet folds. So fucking wet, so responsive, and yet so fucking stubborn.

“Answer me, Katia.”

Silence.

I applied pressure for an answer, and when she still fought, I used the scratchy-soft lace against her bud.

“Uhh!”

“Still not an answer,cara mia.”

I rubbed in tight circles, causing her legs to buckle and her ass to squirm. When her thighs ached to close, I drove my foot further, leaving her spread for my torture.

“Lucca,” she implored.

But that wasn’t the begging I’d promised. I dropped the lace to the floor and dipped a finger deep into her walls.

“Ahh!”

I pumped, toyed, and smeared herself over her opening repeatedly.

“Are you still denying what’s mine?” I growled, frustrated by her impertinence of even trying, and the resistance to retract her insolence.

Katia shook her head, and I pressed deeper. Her lips parted wide, dampening the mirror. Her hair was tousled, and her features clustered in heaps of bliss as I showed her sensitivity any mercy.

“Come on, just admit it.”

“Hmm.” She thrashed.

“Fine,” I snarled. “You are going to listen carefully,” I threatened, and she nodded. “You are not going to fucking move from this position. Do you understand, Katia?”

Pants and tunes echoed.

“Do you understand?” I pinched her bud.

“YES!” she shouted.

I smiled, demented, and watched as her legs shuddered, and her palms tensed on the wall.

With my hands on her sides, I slid them down her ribcage, her waist, and stopped at the curve of her hips the same time my body lowered.

I bit the bottom crease of her ass cheek, and her leg jumped.

Dark chuckles rumbled from my chest, and I twisted in a squat to find the source that could pacify my violent hunger.

I watched as my fingers spread her apart and ate. I’d made a mess I needed to clean, and fuck if my tongue didn’t. My pace matched her soft cries.

My fingers plunged, my other hand kept her on the spot, and my tongue raved over her bud and circled in mad want.

“Lucca, please!”

She withered above.

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