She stiffened. “I didn’t move my hands. I swear it.”
“I know.” He pressed a thumb to her clit, applying enough pressure to drive her higher up the crest, but not over it. “You said ‘God.’ He’s not here, I am.”
She made a frustrated sound and moved her hips restlessly. “Steven.”
“Say it again.” He pulled his fingers out, hovering at her entrance. “Say it, and I’ll let you come.”
Her nostrils flared. “Let me come?”
“Yeah.” He teased her clit with his thumb, tracing it lightly. “Hard. Fast.”
“Oh my—gah.” She cut herself off in the nick of time. She looked like she was two seconds from killing him or fucking him. “Steven.”
“My Steven.” He buried his face in her neck and flicked his tongue over her racing pulse. “I like that.”
He thrust his fingers deep inside her, rubbing her clit at the same time, and caught her mouth. She kissed him back frantically, her hips pumping up and down as he moved his fingers inside of her, mimicking what he would be doing to her in just a few minutes with his dick. When she cried out and tensed, burying her hands in his hair, Steven took his hand away, denying her the orgasm he promised her.
She screamed out in frustration and punched his arm. “I’m going to kill—”
Slowly, oh so slowly, he grasped her wrist and set her hand back above her head where he commanded she keep it. He watched the acknowledgment of what she did light her expression, and she moaned. “It was an accident. I swear. Please, I need—”
“I know what you need,” he said, his voice low and his grip on her wrist unwavering. “You need me to fuck you with my mouth, and you need my dick inside of you. And you’ll get it. You’ll get all of it—if you follow my rules.”
She nodded, biting down on her lip. “I will. I am.”
“Good.”
He kissed her again, lingering on her sweet lips because he just couldn’t get enough, before slowly lowering himself over her body. He dropped kisses on her sweet skin again, not stopping at her breasts this time. He kept going till he knelt between her legs. She closed her thighs on either side of his head, holding him in place, and he ran his tongue up her slit, unable to resist getting a taste.
“Steven,” she groaned, arching her back even higher. “Please.”
He couldn’t look away from her. Flushed cheeks. Parted lips. Hard pink nipples, pointing up and begging for more. It all tantalized him. And he couldn’t wait any longer.
She had to scream his name again.
Lowering his head, he slid his hands under her ass, and lifted her up to his mouth. She smelled delicious. Like Lauren. Rolling his tongue over her clit, he scraped his teeth against the tender flesh before closing his mouth over her and sucking. She rolled her hips in a figure eight motion, her whole body quivering under his intimate kiss. He tightened his grip on her ass, digging his fingers in a little roughly, testing out the waters.
She pressed even closer to him, making his grip harsher. “More.”
Groaning, he deepened the strokes of his tongue. At the same time, he slapped the side of her ass, and she cried out, lifting her hips higher and moving more frantically. He rolled his tongue over her, losing track of how long he knelt there, at the doors of heaven, and he could have stayed there forever. He slapped the side of her ass again, and…
She came.
Her head fell back, and her hips writhed as they lowered to the mattress, and she let out a soft moan as she collapsed, lips parted and body lax. When she hit the mattress, she bit down on her lip and ran a hand over her hard nipple, dragging across it with a moan.
It was, hands down, the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his whole tainted life.
He didn’t even care that she moved her hands. All the rules, and reasons, for why he fucked the way he did faded away, and he couldn’t stop staring at that hard, pert nipple that clearly asked to be teased again.
“Do it again,” he rasped. “Touch yourself.”
She locked eyes with him, cheeks flushed…
And she did it.
Chapter Eight
There was no longer a single doubt in her mind that if Steven was any other man than her non-committal best friend…he could be the man she’d been waiting for her whole life. Everywhere he touched burned. Everything he didn’t touch ached. Never in her whole life had she ever felt as alive as she did now…
And that was the real kicker.
She understood how men worked. Their thoughts, and their fears. Even better than that, she knew his. The second he came, he would already be searching for a way to forget this ever happened. To pretend he hadn’t succumbed to her for a night of passionate lovemaking, and let himself go. And she couldn’t—wouldn’t—fool herself into thinking otherwise. This was a one-time thing, and it could never, ever happen again.