A Not So Meet Cute(56)

She thinks I’m all talk?

How little she knows me.

“Not still, Lottie.” I step closer. “Stiff. I go fucking stiff.” With that, I slide my hand onto her bare hip, continuing to keep her hand pinned above her head.

She gasps from my abrupt touch, and when I slide my hand to her backside and down that sweet ass of hers, she nibbles on her bottom lip.

“And I didn’t start this,” I say, even though I did. “You showed up to dinner, wearing nothing but this robe.”

“I showed up yesterday in a negligee. How is this different?”

I float a finger near her crack as I move my hand north, to her lower back, where I grip her tightly, pulling her close to me.

“This was intentional.”

“As much as you’d like to believe it, Huxley, it is not my intention to try to turn you on. It’s to spend as little time with you as possible.”

“Then why aren’t you leaving now?” I ask, bringing my hand to the front of her body, and I smoothly drag my fingers to just above her pelvic bone. A wave of lust hits her—it’s in her eyes, in the way she gently shifts, spreading her legs slightly.

“Calling your bluff,” she answers. “You’d never touch me—”

“Touch you like what?” I ask as my finger slides over her aroused slit.

She sucks in a sharp breath as her head falls back to the wall and her pelvis sticks out.

“Touch you like this?” I sweep another finger, but this time I slide deeper, connecting against her clit. Fuck. She’s so soft. “Because never underestimate what I won’t do.” Watching how responsive her body is to my touch, I say, “Tell me you want more.”

She shakes her head. “No. I’d never give you that satisfaction.”

“I see.” Two can play this game. Keeping her pinned, I stare down at her smooth pussy as I bring two fingers together and slide them up and down her slit, allowing her clit to catch between them. I gently squeeze and pulse.

“Oh God,” she whispers. Her head whips to the side and her grip on my hand grows tighter.

I pulse my fingers, teasing her entrance. She spreads just a little wider for me and I take that as an invitation. I slip one finger inside her.

Fuck yes, she’s tight.

And wet.

Really fucking wet.

Moving in closer, my lips are tempted to press against her heated skin, but I refrain. This is about proving a point. This is about showing her exactly what I can do to her body with just my hand.

I drag my finger out and then smooth my thumb over her clit. She sucks in a hiss of breath as I apply more pressure and make small, circular motions.

“Yes,” she whispers, her hips begging for more. But I keep my touch light, allowing the gentle pressure I have on her to drive her nuts.

Slow circles.

Round and around.

Building her.

Climbing her.

Driving her crazy.

Her teeth drag over her bottom lip. Her chest heaves, her robe barely covering her tits now. Any sharp movement and I’ll see all of her. And the grip she has on me, on my hand, is so tight that there might be bruises in the morning.

But it’ll be worth it.

Because watching her like this—submitting to me, letting me touch her, bring her to her peak—it’s all fucking worth it.

“More,” she whispers. “Give me more.”

Just what I wanted to fucking hear. I release her hand, and before she can protest, I turn her around so she’s facing the wall, both hands splayed out as her cheek lands lightly against the white surface. From behind, I cup her pussy and pull her ass against my crotch so she can feel how hard I am.

Her raspy gasp brings me pleasure as I slide my finger across her clit again and again.

“Do you hate me right now?” I ask her, toying with the little nub, making her entire body tremble against mine.

“More now than ever.”

“Because I know how to bring you pleasure?” I ask, my lips pressing against her ear.

“Yes.” I slide two fingers inside her now. She lets out a low moan.

“You wish that I wasn’t fucking you with my fingers right now?”

I start to pull them out but she lets out a protest. “No, I do.”

“You do, what?” I ask, my cock so goddamn hard that it’s pressing painfully against the zipper of my pants.

“Fuck me. I want you to fuck me.”

With my other hand, I smooth up the column of her neck and tilt her head back so I’m talking directly into her ear. “So, you hate me, but you want to fuck me.” My thumb presses down on her clit and she lets out a strangled gasp. “How close are you?”

“Close,” she whispers, her body shaking under my hold. “So close.”

“Good,” I say, just before removing my hand from her pussy.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Her confused gasp gives me great pleasure.

“Why should I give you an orgasm, Lottie? Why should I finish you off?”

“Because you’re a bastard if you don’t.” Her palms flatten against the wall as her head bends forward. Every muscle, every fiber of her being is tense.

I work my finger over her clit again, watching carefully as she tenses more, her back arching. I want to bring her to the edge, to the point where she’s about to fall over. “You already think I’m a bastard, so what does it matter? You think the worst of me, Lottie. If I let you come, you will still think the worst about me.”