“I don’t normally. I don’t lie to anyone. I will certainly never lie to you, Sloane, but I will lie for you. Only you.” Maybe the lip thing’s caused me to lower my guard for a minute, because it almost even surprises me when I hear myself say that. Sloane opens her mouth, looking mildly stunned. Now’s probably the perfect time to raise that fucking guard again, before anything else slips out. “Is there anything else, Sloane? We only have thirteen minutes left.”
She makes a pssshhh sound, placing her hands against my chest, as though she’s about to push me away, but I pre-empt her, leaning in with my body so that I’m pressed up tight against her. I know she can feel me. I know she can feel my cock digging into the gap between her legs, begging to be let in. She swallows, and her fingers curl ever so slightly against my pecs. I totally have her.
“We can’t do anything with thirteen minutes,” she murmurs.
This is perhaps one of the greatest challenges that has ever been issued to me. I finally give in and let go of the smile I’ve been holding on to; it’s changed now, though. Before, I was merely entertained by how unbelievable this girl is. Now, I’m going to show her how unbelievable I can be. “Oh, angry girl. I am about to make you eat those words.”
“What—”
I completely ignore whatever she is about to say and lower my head so that I’m pressing my lips, teeth, tongue against the skin of her neck. She doesn’t get more than that one word out. She should have been expecting this. She should have known better when she put on those fucking shorts this morning. I grab hold of her hands and I clasp them behind her back, pulling her away from the wall. She makes a gasping sound as I collect her up—she’s not entirely weightless against me, which makes me incredibly fucking happy. She has curves. Nice ones that I constantly think about palming and licking and biting and doing all kinds of messed-up things to. If she were skin and bone and weighed nothing at all, then I wouldn’t want her the way that I do. I drop to my knees on the floor right where I stand, and then I fall on top of her, pinning her under my body. It takes me two seconds to find my way beneath the flimsy shirt she’s wearing. None of this shit is Zeth-proof. Not even close. I can’t get to her properly, so I tear the material, ripping it straight off her body. I lean back and let myself enjoy the view for a moment.
No. Fucking. Bra.
Sloane’s arms are out to her sides, her hands clenched into fists, but she’s relaxed. She’s not worried. She’s not trying to fend me off, or fight her way free. She’s telling me everything I need to know with her eyes; with the way her chest is rising and falling like she’s just finished a hundred-meter sprint; by the way her nipples are drawn tight and are dark pink, pleading for some attention; by the way she’s wriggling her pelvis underneath me, pushing upward, letting me know what she wants.
“How long?” she pants.
“Eleven minutes.”
“Oh, god.” She grabs hold of my hand, pulling it toward her mouth. Her pink tongue parts her lips, and she licks the tip of my index finger. As if that’s not enough to set my head roaring, she then gently bites down with her perfect teeth, sending what feels like an electric shock darting around my body.
“Fuck, no,” I tell her, pulling back my hand. “We don’t have time for that.”
She looks pained, her breasts heaving as her breathing quickens. “Then what do we have time for?”
I rock back onto my heels, reaching for my bag. I have something for her. I have something for her that I think she’s going to like. I hear her groan when she sees what I’m doing—she has mixed feelings about this bag, I know. But I also know that her excitement levels just shot through the roof, because she’s grabbed hold of the weft of her bedroom carpet with both hands and she’s squeezing so tight her hands have turned white.
“Patience, angry girl. Patience.” Yeah, right. Fuck patience. I tear open the zip on the bag, and I find what I’m after almost immediately. It’s a small, oval-shaped device, a new addition to my bag of tricks. I’ve never used anything like it before, but I know what it’s going to do to her. I put it down while I grab hold of her by the ankle, pulling her along the carpet toward me.
“What the hell is that?” she asks. “I’m not doing—”
“I’m not interested in that. I’m interested in you closing your eyes. I’m interested in you letting yourself go.”