“Oh, Albie,” I tell her, one hand caressing her ass cheek. “That’s what I want to hear you say. That, and please. Please make me come, Albie.”
“I’m not begging you,” she says, her voice strained. Then, “That feels so good.”
Running my palm over her ass, I draw my hand back and bring it down hard, the crack reverberating through the room.
“Damn it, Albie,” she says, then moans. And she doesn’t move. She shakes her hair, tossing her head back, and I realize something.
She likes it.
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” I ask. “You’re so close to coming, and you liked my hand on your ass, spanking you.”
“Maybe,” she whispers, looking at me over her shoulder.
I reach between her legs, my fingertips brushing along the length of her pussy lips. “You’re drenched,” I say. “Soaked. You fucking love this. Say it. You want me to make you come.”
“I’m not saying it,” she says. “I won’t beg.”
I bring my hand down on the opposite cheek, and she flinches. But she doesn’t stand up and walk away. She arches her ass out more. I caress the red mark that’s rapidly spreading across the expanse of her skin, while she moans low under her breath.
“Say it, luv,” I tell her, reaching between her legs from behind until I find her clit with my fingertip. But I don't move my finger. I just press it gently on her clit. “Tell me how much you want me. You want me inside you. You want to feel me, coming inside you.”
“Albie,” she says, groaning loudly, her frustration evident.
"Belle."
"What?" her eyes are closed, her forehead wrinkled, and I know how much she wants to let go.
"You're the only one I want to make come. Not Erika, not anyone else. Do you understand? Now say what I want to hear."
“Yes." She whispers the word so softly that I barely hear it.
I don’t move. I know she’s close. I know she’s on the edge, so close to coming, and I want to send her hurtling over the edge. “Yes, what, luv?”
She groans again. “Yes, I want you inside me. Yes, I want you to make me come.”
“Not enthusiastic enough,” I tell her. But I finally move my finger on her clit. “You want to come. You want release. All you have to do is tell me how much you want it.”
“Oh my God, Albie,” she whispers. “Please.”
The please is what gets me. It’s the please, coming from Little Miss Do-Gooder, Miss Propriety, that kills me.
But I can’t stand not seeing it on her face. I want to see the expression on her face when she comes.
When I take my fingers away from her clit, she practically cries, until I spin her around and push her roughly against the wall. Yanking the piles of fabric of her dress up, I thrust my fingers between her legs, returning them where they were on her clit, and she practically melts against me.
It takes all the willpower I have not to crush her mouth under mine, but I want to see her face as I roll my fingers over her clit, faster now. “Come for me, luv,” I tell her. “I want to hear you say my name.”
“Fuck,” she says, clutching at my wrist, pressing my hand against her pussy as she jerks involuntarily, a full-body spasm. “Albie. Oh my…holy shit, Albie.”
The expression when she comes is the hottest thing I've ever seen. Her eyes are closed and her face is angled up toward mine, her lips barely parted. I savor it for all of a split second before flicking off the vibrator.
I don't wait for her to finish. Instead, I slide my fingers along her pussy lips until I reach her entrance. I find the vibrating egg easily. Her slickness makes sliding it from her the simplest thing in the world. I toss it on the floor with the remote, not caring if they shatter into a million pieces.
“Tell me you want it,” I say. “Tell me you want my tongue. I want to taste you. I’ve been aching to taste you. Say it, Belle.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Belle
The most handsome, most eligible bachelor in the world – well, maybe bachelor isn’t the right word, not if we’re counting our fake marriage -- is looking into my eyes, telling me that he aches to taste me.
And that’s after making me come twice in a night.
The rational part of me is telling me we could get caught. It’s my mother’s engagement party, for goodness’ sake. And I’m in the pool house with Albie.
Albie, my stepbrother, who’s telling me he wants to put his tongue between my legs.
“I want you,” I whisper, hardly sure I’m even hearing the words coming out of my mouth. “I want your tongue on me.”