Page 100 of The Playboy

“I thought—”

“You thought wrong.” I leaned back in my seat, folding my hands behind my head, arms bent at my elbows.

She turned toward me, holding the armrest that was between us with both of her hands. “You wantmeto begyouto finger me?”

I chewed my bottom lip. “You’re wasting time by asking questions.”

“But weren’t you supposed to be begging to lick me?”

“That was then.” Instead of biting, I dragged my teeth over the same lip. “This is now.” I glanced at the tablet, seeing that a minute had passed. “Nine minutes.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“No.” I shook my head, feeling the grin deepen the lines by my eyes. “I’m relentless. That’s something we both know, and up until now, you’ve appreciated that about me. You’ll appreciate this, too, once I cave and give you what I want.”

“WhatIwant, you mean.”

“No, Brooklyn.” My brows furrowed as I studied the outline of her body through the heavy blanket. “What I want is to please you. To hear you scream. To taste your cum on my tongue. To feel your cunt tighten around my dick. To watch you lose control of your body, allowing me to take the power and bring you to places you’ve never reached. That’s what I thrive on. What I desire. What I want more than fucking anything.” I brought my finger up to my nose, the one that had been inside her. The one I’d licked clean. “Maybe the men in your past were focused on themselves, but that’s not me. I think you know that by now.”

Her throat moved as she swallowed. “I can’t breathe …”

“Good. Now, make it hard for me to breathe.”

She sank a little lower in her seat, her arms going beneath the blanket so I couldn’t see what she was doing, and when they surfaced, there was black lace in her hand. She tossed the lace onto my lap. “Smell them.”

Now, she was giving me orders.

But, fuck, it was a hot one.

I lifted her panties to my face, rubbing the thickest part under my nose and across my lips. “They’re wet.”

“That’s from you.”

The scent was everything I remembered about her pussy. Sweet with a hint of softness, like baby powder even though the rest of her was citrus and beachy.

As I continued to watch her, she pushed the blanket to the far side of the seat and lifted her dress to her waist, showing me the bareness beneath. “This is where I want you, Macon.” She ran two fingers down the front of her, pausing at her clit to give it a quick swipe before continuing lower until she was at the base of her pussy.

The spot where I wanted my cock.

Where I would kill to take a whiff.

“And this is where I need you.” Those same two fingers jabbed inside her. But they didn’t go far. They went in only an inch or so, and when she pulled them out, her skin glistened from the wetness.

Wetness I wanted to feel on my cock.

My hand.

My tongue.

“I want to taste them,” I demanded.

Her stare narrowed. “What would you do to make that happen?”

I chuckled. “You’re smooth.”

“Let’s negotiate.” She held up her hand. “I’ll give you a taste, if you give me a finger.”

“Just one?”

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