Page 84 of All Bets Are Off

“Ruins the fun when you’re the one being yelled at.” Her eyes turn downcast as the words pass her lips. I catch her chin in mine and force her to look at me. It’s the first time since the party I’ve really studied her face. Her makeup is smeared, her lips and cheeks swollen, and her eyes are rimmed red and a little puffy. Guilt slams into my chest. I guess it wouldn’t be much of a reward at all if her night ended with tears. We forced her to remember the good between all of us, when he would never allow her to keep it.

Even our rewards are just another type of punishment for her. No matter how enjoyable it was, how sweet it tasted, it was just another poison.

We stop walking and I pull her closer to me. There’s not a sign of another person anywhere near us in either direction on the path. It’s just the two of us. Maybe that’s what gives me the courage to ask her. “Then what would you like for your reward?”

She breaks eye contact with me to look around the same way I had just done, before pulling me off the path and into the trees. I furrow my brows as I follow her without question. She leans against a tree as she stops, pulling on my suspender to make me lean down to her. When I do she whispers in my ear, “To forget.”

I cock my head as I study her. She told me this like it was a deepest, darkest secret and yet it’s so vague. “What is it you want to forget, Bri?”

Her wide eyes stare up at me, a keen desperation I can't understand. “Everything.” The emotion in that one single word almost brings me to my knees for her, ready to follow her every command. “I just want to feel good.”

I swallow thickly at the insinuation. “Brielle,” I warn, my voice huskier as it drops in pitch.

“Don’t you want to forget too, Hudson? To just be us again for a moment?”

I shake my head, letting her pull me into her body until I’m caging her against the tree. “This was never us,” I answer roughly. I wish it was, but we never got her. I inhale deeply as I drop my nose to the crook of her neck. She smells just like I remember, jasmine and honey.

“Then let me pretend?”

I exhale, tightening my fist above her head against the bark. Why does she have to make this so damn hard? Does she not realize how long I have dreamt of this moment? Of her choosing me and finally getting to have a taste of her?

“Let me pretend,” she whispers again, running her hands up my chest. “Let me pretend that this is us. I just want to feel good.”

I take another deep breath, losing and tightening my fist over and over again. Each breath only intoxicates me further with everything that is her. Making me lose my sense all that much quicker. “What would make you feel good?” Even I can hear the strain in my voice, the barely restrained need to take her up on exactly what she’s offering.

“You,” she answers breathlessly.

I drop a hand to her thigh, never pulling my face from the crook of her neck. I drag a single finger up the back of her thigh and she arches up into me, cradling my growing erection with her hips. So sinfully good, I almost groan aloud. “And then what, Brielle? You want me to reward you with an orgasm and then go back to acting like I don’t exist?”

“That’s not forgetting everything else,” she whines, moving her hips as she seeks out more contact.

“I don’t want you to forget me, B.” I nuzzle into her neck. I never did.

She grabs my face and pulls me away so she can look in my eyes. “I could never forget you, Hudson,” she whispers. The pain in her words doesn't make me feel any better though. She already did once, or at least she tried to. “I just want a moment. A moment to hold on to.”

I begin moving my finger up her thigh again, going against my better instincts. My fingers slip under her dress, caressing the smooth expanse on her leg up to where it meets the curve of her ass. I let my knuckles brush against the curves and am rewarded with a shiver.

“A moment of what?” I ask, helpless against giving her what she wants. She’s always been my queen, made for me to worship. If this is my one chance to do so, I won’t let it pass. Even if it means all the more trouble and pain in the morning. I drift away from her ass and make my way to the front of her thighs, coaxing more reactions out of her as I stroke her inner thighs, carefully working my way up to what I really crave.

“A moment to know what it feels like to be yours,” she admits. The last thread of my control snaps at those words.

I brush my lips against hers. “Mine,” I growl, as I seek out her center with my fingers. I grin, still pressing our lips together. “Naughty, naughty,” I murmur as I slide my fingers through her dripping heat. “I’m positive you were wearing underwear earlier.”

She gasps as I slide two fingers inside of her, she’s wet enough they go in with little resistance, but a white hot fit of jealousy consumes me to find her already bare.

“Who is this for?” I demand as I begin to pump my fingers in and out of her, scissoring my fingers inside her as I feel her wetness increase. She starts to move her hips, riding my fingers as bliss enters her expression. “Who, Bri?”

“You,” she pants, growing slicker. I keep my pace slow, digging my teeth into my lower lip. I want to demand to know where her underwear is, who got to her first. But I already know my answer and I don’t want to hear it. Don’t want to think about him when I finally have my Bri, my sunshine, wrapped tightly around my fingers. Clenching like she’s scared to lose my touch.

I couldn’t have her first. I can’t have her forever. But I have a moment. This moment. A moment that I can make sure she never forgets. That when she wakes up tomorrow, it’s me she’s thinking about and not him.

I curl my fingers and rub at that sensitive spot before pulling back out again. She whimpers as she moves with me, riding my hand like she was always meant to. I build up a slow torture, never allowing her to increase the pace even as she tries so hard to.

It’s impossible to look away from her, to drag my eyes away from the blissful expression on her face. The way her eyes are half closed, her mouth parted open ever so slightly. And the way her nose scrunches and eyebrows furrow every time she starts to get close and I drop the pace and she loses it.

Fuck I could watch her all day. Unravel her bit by bit and discover everything else I could do to her body to get her to make that expression.

“Hudson,” she begs and a dark, twisted part of me raises its head in anticipation.

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