Addicted After All (Addicted #3)(108)

“Wait…” I stop him again, just as his hand moves to my belly. “We can’t.” I wince. “My sisters made that pact for me; I can’t break it.” But I worry about not having this release at all. Lo knows how much it’ll plague my mind and body. It’s going to be painful. For hours. Nothing. And…and…

“Shh, love, don’t cry,” he breathes, wiping beneath my eyes. “This isn’t sex. And if it concerns you that much, just tell your sisters they can start having sex or that dry humping is game.”

Okay. Okay. He’s right.

He sets his hands on either side of me, positioned right over my small frame. “You ready now?” His voice is all playfulness.

I nod fiercely, my gaze dropping to his towel.

“That stays on, Lil,” he reminds me.

“IknowIknow,” I say quickly, slurring my words.

My shorts are already unbuttoned and unzipped. He keeps his body weight off me, even though I need it. I want it. I’m too greedy. And he likes to tease.

His hand lowers down my shorts again. I’m about to watch, but he kisses me deeply, slowly, making me lose concentration of his other languid, hot movements.

That is, until I feel his fingers brush against my wet panties. I break the kiss and whine, straight up. My legs quiver. “Please…”

His lips touch my ear as he whispers, “You’re soaked for me.”

I nod rapidly. Yes. Yes. “I need you,” I whimper. I arch my back, hoping that my pelvis connects with his. Something harder. Deeper. His body is snug between my legs.

“Shh, Lil,” he breathes.

I’m afraid he’s going to sit up, away from me, so I cling to his body, latching myself onto him.

He rests his forearm on the ground, less distance between us, and he combs my hair back, his lips a breath from mine. Kiss me. He does. Oh. He does so much. The earnestness in his lips heats my core, a kiss like he’s supplying me oxygen to live one more day on this Earth. Thank you, Loren Hale.

I’m fueled with love and lust.

He rocks his body forward, grinding against me. Holy shit. I cry, “Lo, Lo.” And his fingers begin to rub the outside of my panties. Oh my God.

I need his fingers. Not the cotton. Skin-to-skin. I whimper even more. Desperate and horny.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, and then he kisses my neck, sucking on the tender place. Between my thighs, his finger hooks in the cloth, and he finds the small, throbbing bud. As soon as he touches the sensitive skin, I jerk and buck up. He presses his body harder against me, keeping me still and adding more pressure.

God. Yes.

He whispers, in a deep, edged voice, “I’m inside of you.” His fingers quicken. “Slamming into you.” Yes. “Filling you.” His pace quickens, building me so high that my eyes flutter closed. My head lulls. Please. I hold onto his wrist. And then I place my hand on top of his, feeling the way he’s moving his fingers against the spot. Feeling how small I am compared to him.

“Deeper,” I plead.

He only rubs my clit. And he says, “I’m so deep inside of you, love, that there’s no more room to go any further.”

I cry into his shoulder, my body reaching a high. Nerves electrify, my pulse speeding to new levels, and I constrict multiple times. I stop breathing and float up to the clouds. From here on out, every touch on my sensitive flesh has me twisting and spasming. Lo presses on my clit, the intensity numbing me, and then he removes his hand and collects me in his arms, bringing me on his lap.

My breathing is like an out-of-shape whale. I can feel his hardness beneath his towel. “Again?” I question with a pant, longing in my eyes. I know the answer though. I shake my head at myself.

“No more, Lil.” He carefully raises my shorts. I didn’t even notice them fall to my thighs. He buttons and zips them back. No more. I’m trying to be satisfied with this. I am.

“Are you going to…” I stare at his crotch. “…touch yourself again?”

“Don’t think about it,” he tells me. Maybe it’s better that I don’t know what he does. I want to offer my services, but his jaw sharpens in this no-nonsense Loren Hale look. Something that shrivels people. It only steals my breath.

I try not to think about blow jobs or hand jobs or any kind of job. I clear my throat. “Do you know where the handcuffs are?”

His eyes narrow.

“They’re not for me,” I say quickly, realizing this was bad timing. “I have to show Rose.”

His expression does not soften. “Why?”

“Long story.”

He shakes his head and lets out a breath. He lifts me up to my feet just as he stands. And then he squats back down by his rack of Vans. He reaches for a box and pops it open. The silver cuffs are simple, but they have this black leather that makes them softer. We don’t use them often. Maybe like once every few months.

I prefer my hands to be touching him.

“Alrighty, thank you.” I reach out to take them.

“Kiss first,” he says.

I grin and glance down at his cock.

“Not there, love. On my lips.”

Damn. I look back up and he’s smiling. For a second, I wonder if I can postpone the kiss, just to see him smile longer.

He can’t read my mind.