Oh, he was just getting started. If she thought he was torturing her now . . .
He swept his hands over her rib cage, rose up, and straddled her, letting his dick rest against her * as he took her breasts in his hands, filling his palms with the globes as he rubbed his cock against the softness of her sex.
She lifted her butt, sliding against his cock. He smiled down at her but didn’t let her have it.
“We’re not nearly ready to fuck yet, Elizabeth.”
“Bastard,” she said, her eyes green slits of frustration and desire.
He rolled his thumbs over her nipples, then bent down and took one in his mouth, keeping the other entertained by squeezing it between his fingers. Her cries of delight made his balls quiver. He cupped her breasts in his hands and rolled his tongue over both, sucking and licking them until Elizabeth started to pull against the ties at her wrists.
“Fuck me, Gavin. Lick my *. Do something to make me come.”
Now he had her. He leaned over her and brushed his lips against hers. She lifted her head, her tongue meeting his in a hungry kiss. He tangled his fingers in her loose hair, loving the soft wildness of it. He spread it over the pillow under her head, then kissed her jaw and her neck. He ran his tongue across the side of her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone, before taking a lazy trail over her breasts and belly again.
“You’re making me crazy.”
She was losing patience. Good. He wanted her willing to do anything.
He licked his way to the top of her sex, his tongue hovering near her clit. He inhaled the sweet scent of her sex, the tangy aroma of her arousal, then lifted his head to see her looking down at him with hunger and demand.
Oh, yeah. His gaze still focused on her, he dragged his tongue along the crease of her inner thigh, across her wet * lips, avoiding her clit, licking all around her, taking her so close he saw the muscles of her biceps bulge as she pulled at the restraints.
“Gavin!”
And yet he wouldn’t lick her there just yet. He circled the bud with his tongue, flattened his tongue across her * lips, dipped inside to lap at her juices, held on to her hips and legs when she started to buck against him.
“Goddamn it, Gavin, this isn’t fun.”
Oh, yes, it was.
Because when he dragged his tongue up her * and laid it right on her clit, she moaned a long, low sound that made his cock swell, made him grind his pelvis against the mattress, made him want to come inside her.
And then he stopped, rose up on his knees.
She jerked her head up.
“You have got to be kidding me. You are not stopping.”
“Tell me about Arkansas, Elizabeth.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Get your head back down there between my legs and lick my *. I’m not talking about Arkansas. Not now, not ever.”
He laid his hand on her sex, dipped his fingers inside her, and pumped once, twice, felt her shudder, felt her * tighten around his fingers.
“Fuck you, Gavin. Untie me.”
He withdrew his fingers and took all that wet cream and painted her clit with it, teased the nub until it hardened and bloomed under his finger.
She dropped her head and moaned, her hips rocking under his hand.
And then he stopped. “Tell me about Arkansas, Elizabeth.”
“Screw you. This is supposed to be fun between us.”
“I’m having fun.”
She stared up at the ceiling. “I’m not.”
“Aren’t you?” He swept his fingers along the seam of her * again, circling her clit until her lips clamped tightly closed and her jaw tightened. “You want to come, Elizabeth. I know how good this feels.” He slid two fingers inside her and began to move. “You want me to fuck you, to make you come. I want to come in you, to feel your * squeeze me until I shoot off inside you.”
She refused to look at him. “Then shove your cock in me and fuck me.”
“I want to know you, to know all about you. I want to know where you came from, who you were before.”
She lifted her head and tears filled her eyes. “No, you don’t. You don’t want to know that, Gavin. Please.”
He pulled his fingers out of her, laid down on top of her. “What hurts you about that? Tell me.”
“Damn you. I can’t. Don’t make me talk about it. This isn’t a game to me.”
Was she manipulating him, or was that the truth? With Elizabeth, he was never sure.
And what did she mean by it not being a game? Being tied up, talking about Arkansas, or something else?
He swept his hand over her hair, turned her to face him. “Talk to me.”
“Let me go, Gavin. Just let me go.”