“Keep going.”
I turn, pretending to keep my modesty, I guess, but really wanting him to get a glimpse of my bare ass. I grip the waistband of my leggings and bend over, tugging them down my legs, hoping he enjoys the view. I kick the leggings off the rest of the way, nudging them aside with my foot before I stand up straight.
“Turn around.” He sounds exasperated. I’m enjoying how much I’m annoying him. Probably too much.
Slowly I turn around and face him, not hiding my body whatsoever. Just like the last time we did this in my dorm room. Only now he has the advantage. Fully clothed to my naked. I rest my hands on my hips, contemplating him as much as he contemplates me, the both of us silent. Straight faces. Dim gazes. No smiles.
No emotion at all.
“Come here,” he finally says, his low voice rippling along my nerve endings.
I approach the bed, stopping directly in front of him. Fully prepared for him to demand I get on my knees next. I’m sure he’ll want to degrade me completely by fucking my mouth and coming on my face.
He’s sick. Worse?
I’m turned on by the mental image.
“Straddle me.” He brings his legs closer together and pats his right thigh, demonstrating where he wants me.
Frowning, surprised by his demand, I swing my leg over both of his, resting my hands on his broad shoulders, my center nestled right on top of him. I can feel his cock beneath the thick sweats, nudging up against my pussy and a ripple of wanting washes over me. I’m bound to leave a wet spot on his pants before this is through.
He settles his big hands on my waist, his touch light, though his fingers seem to burn against my bare skin. Goose bumps rise as usual, all over me, and I sit there on him, face to face. Unsure of what to do next.
Without a word he nuzzles my cheek with his nose, his intimate touch causing me to inhale sharply. His mouth rests at my ear and I can hear him breathing. “I can smell you,” he murmurs. “Here.”
He rubs his nose on my neck.
“And here.”
Reaching between us, he settles his hand on my pussy, cupping me.
I grip his shoulders tighter and dip my head, watching as my breasts rise and fall. Rise and fall with every hurried breath. My nipples are hard, aching points, and I remember when he sucked them last.
“What do you want me to do now?” I ask when he resettles his hand on my hip once more.
“Stay still,” he says, his mouth moving against the sensitive skin just below my ear. He’s silent for a moment, our breaths comingling, keeping pace with each other. “Do you hear that?”
“What?” I ask weakly.
“Your heart beating.” Whit touches my chest, his fingers resting in between my breasts. “So hard, Savage. Do I still scare you?”
Slowly I lift my head, my gaze meeting his. I bite my lower lip and nod once.
Whit smiles, brushing across my nipples with the back of his hand. “If I told you what I really want to do to you right now, you’d run screaming from my room. You’d never want to come back. I’d haunt your nightmares for the rest of your life.”
My heart trips over itself at his words, the promise behind them. “Tell me.”
He smiles, and the sight of it steals my breath. No wonder he doesn’t do it much. It’s absolutely devastating. “I want to mark your skin.”
“With what?”
“My mouth.” Leaning in, he touches his lips to my jaw. “My teeth.” He nips me there. “My hands.” They grip my hips tighter, pressing into my skin. “I’d tie you up, so tight. Then you can never run from me.”
“I wouldn’t want to,” I admit softly.
He lifts his head once more, those icy blue eyes staring at me, as if he can see down into my soul. It’s black and dark, just like his. His words don’t sound like a threat.
They’re a promise. One I’m desperate for him to fulfill.
“I’d tie you to the bed. Your hands. Your ankles. I’d want you spread wide, that pretty pussy on complete display. Just for me.” He drags his lips along my neck, and I close my eyes, my entire body tingling in anticipation of what he might say next. “But I wouldn’t touch it. Not yet. Not for a long time. First, I’d want you crying. Sobbing. Begging for me to touch you there. To let you come.”
His mouth sucks on the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, hard. Painfully. I squeeze his shoulders with my fingers, savoring the pain. “I’d touch you everywhere,” he continues. “I’d drive you out of your mind with wanting me. You’d drip all over the bed. I’d run my mouth across your stomach. The inside of your thighs. All over your ass. I’d kiss and bite you there, and leave bruises.”
I shift against him, nudging closer, as close as I can get, and his hands slide down to cup my ass. “Look at me,” he demands. I do as he says, my gaze locking with his, my entire body on fire for him. “You want me to fuck you tonight?”
My nod is furious, though I can’t find my words.
“Make yourself come then.” He lets go of my ass, reaching behind him to brace his hands on the mattress. His new position thrusts his hips up, his thick cock straining against the front of his sweatpants, pressing into me. “I won’t touch you. I won’t kiss you. I want you to use me.”
I gape at him, frowning. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“Get creative, Savage.” He grins, and my heart stops. “Rub that wet pussy all over my dick. Do whatever you want to me, but I’m not touching you. Won’t kiss you either. And don’t try to take off my clothes. Got it?”
This will be absolute torture for me, and he knows it.
It will also be torture for him.
Leaning in, I hover my mouth against his, whispering, “Got it.”
He doesn’t even flinch. Just watches me with that cool, assessing gaze. I press my feet against the floor, lifting up, until just my toes are on the ground, my torso pushed forward. I tilt my hips, gliding my pussy along the front of his sweats. Up and down.
Up and down.
Making me shake.
I lean my head back and close my eyes, shamelessly rubbing against him. I’m tits up, nipples pointing at the ceiling, my thighs shaking, straining from the position, and oh fuck, it feels so good. My clit rubs the seam of his sweats, his thick cock just beneath. My hands still grip his shoulders and I swear I can feel them grow more tense beneath my hold. Am I driving him crazy?
I hope so.
A moan escapes me, followed by a whimper. I drop my head so I’m facing him once more, and lower my feet, settling more firmly on top of him as I open my eyes. He’s still watching me, his eyes stormy. Full of hunger that I know he’s fighting. I circle my hips, gyrating against him, increasing my speed.
He doesn’t say a word. No encouragement. No nothing. Just that stare. He’s trying to remain impassive, but how can he, when I’m blatantly rubbing my naked body all over his? I can feel the tension in his muscular frame. See the storm brewing in his eyes.
“Oh God,” I whisper, my eyelids fluttering. I want them to stay open so I can watch him, but the sensations filling me are overwhelming. I let go of his shoulder to cup my breast. Pinch my nipple. A hiss leaves my lips and I lick them. Let my mouth hang open. “Fuck.”
Still he does nothing. Just watches me with that same expression on his face. The beautiful, cold statue in the garden. Cold. Unmoving.