Never Sweeter (Dark Obsession #1)(39)

Though none of it was what she kept seeing behind her eyes in the aftermath. Instead, she saw the way his face had looked as he shot his load. The open mouth, and the closed eyes, and most of all the strange, wrenching vulnerability that had covered him for a moment. No mischief, no macho bullshit—just a completely open and abandoned sort of ecstasy.

And all of it for her.

He knew she had watched him. He still knew now. She flicked her eyes back to the screen as he started to catch his breath, but the first thing he did was include her.

“Guess I kind of made a mess here,” he said, everything about his tone suggesting two conspirators, finishing off their evil deed. She even got up after he’d said it, to get him a tissue.

Though when she got back he’d pretty much taken care of most of it.

She stopped in the doorway to the bathroom at the sight: Him, casually licking his messy fingers.

It took her a good two minutes after that to go over to him, with her fistful of toilet paper. And when she did go, it was on very shaky legs. Her whole body felt shaky, in fact—though not in any way she’d experienced before. This was like being full to the brim with something burning hot, skin so close to ripping that it couldn’t keep still. Sometimes she thought she could see it shivering slightly under the strain, and every inch of it was tender, so tender. His leg brushed hers as she sat down, and it was agony.

She even winced—then immediately regretted it.

He had been concentrating on cleanup. Now he looked up at her sharply.

And asked questions she was loath to answer.

“Have you…not? I mean have you not—”

“I couldn’t. I’m sorry, I couldn’t.”

“God, you must be bursting.”

“Honestly, I’m fine.”

The problem was though, she didn’t seem fine.

She couldn’t meet his gaze. Her hands were fists on her thighs.

And of course he could see all of that.

“You look like you’re bursting.”

“Oh yeah? And what does bursting look like?”

“Your voice is shaking.”

“Is it?” she asked, voice so light it almost passed.

Almost, almost, almost.

“Your cheeks are flushed.”

“Are they?”

“And then there’s the fact that your nipples are like diamonds. Fuck, look how stiff they are. Isn’t that agonizing, having them like that? I bet your clit’s the same. Bet your * is sooooo wet. So wet you’re making a mess of my nice, clean clothes.”

Her cheeks grew hotter and hotter as he whispered each word. By the time he was done they felt like they were going to melt right off her face. That tense, cringing feeling in her stomach was ten times worse, and that was before he got to the last point. The one about the clothes, and the mess, and oh god what if he was right? It felt as if he might be. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, and everything was really slippery between her legs. She could feel it, every time she moved.

“Oh f*ck, sorry, sorry I don’t…I hope…it’s just that—”

“Honey, you don’t need an explanation.”

His tone was like sinking into a warm bath—and the thumb she could feel stroking over her forearm only pulled her deeper down. He just did it so idly. So like he wasn’t touching her at all.

Before she knew it she was up to her ears in liquid heat.

“Are you sure? Because it kind of feels like I do.”

“I’m sure. I mean, the movie was pretty intense.”

“Right, exactly. Super intense.”

“So why deny yourself?”

“I’m not…denying…anything.”

“I could leave, if you want.”

“No, god no,” she said, too fast and too fierce.

Though it was only afterward that she realized how it sounded: Not like someone trying to say she didn’t want to masturbate.

Like someone saying that she wanted him to stay.

And he took it that way, too.

“Or, you know. I could just…do it for you,” he said.

Then she just had to do her best not to go out of her mind.

She stopped herself from jumping up. Kept her hands from flailing.

Didn’t look at him, in case looking made her do something crazy.

“Oh my god. You can’t be serious. You can’t be serious.”

“Probably wouldn’t take a lot.”

“I always take a lot.”

“Even when you’re alone?”

“Especially when I’m alone.”

“Well, maybe we should see about that.”

Again, she had the urge to get up. Maybe she even would have, if it hadn’t been for the other things he was doing. The thumb stroking her arm was now the back of his hand, running the length of her arm over and over. And that was his breath against the curve of her throat, so close and warm he could have been kissing her there. It felt like kissing.

Only without the scariness of the real thing.

All of this was without the scariness of the real thing.

It was just a game, that was all—and one that she could win if she really put her mind to it. He thought he could get her so easily, but he was utterly and completely wrong. She was a rock, in the face of whatever he was going to do. She was impervious to the pleasure he seemed to think he was going to dole out, to the point where she almost laughed when he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of those too-big sweatpants.