“I know, baby, I know,” he says, pressing his forehead against mine as if he’s trying to both mentally and physically rid me of my position against us. “Jesus Christ, I heard you, I hear you, but I won’t let this go. I fucking won’t as long as you’re with me, and I know you don’t want me to, either.” Unbuttoning his jeans, he takes one of my hands and guides it into his boxers. Instinctively, I grip his impressive length. A moan escapes me as his thick cock twitches in my palm.
Blinding need surges through me, attempting a takeover as I note the set in his jaw and the desire pooling in his eyes. Before I realize it, I’m lowering to my knees and gripping his boxers to feast. Because he’s worthy. Because he’s my fantasy turned beautiful reality. Because I want him so fucking much, the ache is unbearable.
Gathering my hair in his fist, he tightens his grip and tugs so I’m forced to look up at him. “Is this what you wanted when you were looking for me?”
Leaning forward, I lick along the fat head jutting out of the top of his boxers, my fingers hooking on the hem to lower them. His grip on me tightens as he pulls me away, refusing access.
“We can have tonight,” I offer softly, gazing up at him.
“Admit it,” he grits out, jerking himself further out of reach as I attempt to take him into my mouth again. “Admit it. Goddamnit,” he grits out in heady demand. When I refuse, he yanks me up by my arms. “Admit it, Beauty,” he cups my cheek, his eyes searching, imploring. “Please just fucking admit it.”
“I can’t,” I whisper, the apology in it unmistakable.
Eyes flaring with renewed anger, he lowers to his own knees while slowly pushing my dress up to my hips to reveal my silky white thong. Palming my thighs apart, he presses his forehead to my navel in obvious frustration as his fingers ghost up between my thighs. He skims the fabric at the apex before moving the material to the side and running his index finger through my center.
“Jesus.” He grazes my clit with the pad of his finger, and my legs start to give as he anchors me between himself and the door.
Nostrils flaring, he gazes up, adding another finger and crooking them in beckoning. A cry escapes me as muted satisfaction flares in his eyes. He’s declaring war, and I’ve allowed him to corner me, knowing this can’t go in any other direction than the way we both want it to—but on his terms. I’ve already waved my white flag for tonight, but he won’t be satisfied until I’ve voiced it aloud, and in a more permanent way that may damn well ruin me.
“God, I want to fucking punish you,” he rasps out, hastening his fingers as another moan escapes me. His eyes snap up. “Don’t moan like that, baby. That’s my one and only fucking warning,” his threat carries a dark edge, which only fuels me. In the next second, he fists the crotch of my panties and yanks, ripping them down mid-thigh until they give and fall. The ruined remains slide easily down my legs before they pool at my stilettos. Another moan escapes me as a wicked smile curves his lush lips.
“Too bad,” he sits back on his heels and spreads my slick flesh with his fingers before leaning in and flattening his tongue in a thorough swipe up my drenched center. My responding cry comes out more of a scream just as he takes it away before darting the tip of his tongue out in targeted strokes against my clit. Grappling and already on the brink, I brace against the door, my orgasm starting to unfurl when he pulls away.
“Easton,” I croak out, chest furiously pumping as I claw his head in an attempt to grind against him, chasing my denied orgasm. Smirking, Easton teases with one finger, slowly pumping it in and out of me. Dragging it lightly along my walls, keeping me there, but only enough to have me chasing the friction with the desperate grind of my hips.
“Want to come, Beauty?”
“Please,” I beg hoarsely. “D-don’t—”
“Don’t what? Dangle what you want in front of you, only to tell you that you can’t have it? That would be cruel.”
My thighs shake uncontrollably as he hooks a leg over his shoulder, lifting my lower half and further wedging me between himself and the door. Finger plunging noisily due to my arousal, he looks up at me, and pulls my clit into his mouth, sucking lightly to keep my cries coming. Furious, I fist the material of his T-shirt as he stares up at me.
“Tell me.”
“Please make me come.”
“I can’t,” he mimics as he spreads me wider so I have a clear view of the illicit act. “I can’t,” he taunts before darting his tongue along my clit again. I feast on the look of it, his hot breath and raspy voice lighting me on fire. “This taste,” his lashes flutter as he closes his lips around my clit and gently sucks, edging me to insanity. The vibration of his moan has my back bowing as his light stubble rubs against my thighs. In seconds, I’m whimpering his name.
“Please, please, Easton,” I beg.
Ignoring my plea, he drops my leg and shakes his head.
“Sorry,” he inches a tongue-filled kiss up my stomach while gathering the material of my dress beneath my breasts. Massaging one with his thumb, he stands to his full height, eyes full of condemnation as I fall completely and helplessly under his spell.
Gripping the back of his head, I run my fingers through his thick hair as he brushes his erection against my stomach, smearing the precum onto my skin. He again guides my hand into his jeans, his velvet cock rock hard as we get lost in each other’s gaze. The desire between us rages, our stare-off lasting a painful eternity due to our stalemate. His own stance doesn’t waver a bit despite the desperate need bouncing between us. Even with the permission I’m so clearly giving him, he’s dead set on winning this war.
“Easton, please, you don’t know what you’re asking of me.”
“You want to talk about I can’t? How about I can’t fuck you again and watch you walk away from me, again. Once was plenty.”
He stops the hand I’m using to stroke him and flattens my palm against his stomach before sliding it up to rest over where his pounding heart lays. “I want more for myself, and I want to give you so much fucking more. So, think of what you’re asking me because I know exactly what I’m asking of you,” his voice cracks with emotion. “This is me fighting dirty for us both, so please just admit it so I can give you the best parts of me, because I want every fucking part of you.”
A fast tear falls as the first confession tumbles from my lips. “I cried the whole way back to the airport because I knew it would never feel the same with anyone else, so I haven’t bothered to look. I couldn’t.” Another tear falls. “I wrote that article because I wanted you to know I saw you, and I love what I saw inside you. Because I was frantic on that plane to keep a piece of you—of us—as close to me as possible. And because I felt the dire need to try to protect you, and that was the only way I could think of doing it.” I swallow. “I’ve thought about nothing but you since I left Seattle.” My voice shakes with my next admission. “I didn’t want to leave you that day, and I sure as hell don’t want to leave you tomorrow. I didn’t want to leave us there. All I truly want—and have wanted since the day we met—is you.”
A cry escapes me before he swallows it with his kiss. Mouths fusing, we collide past the barricade he just blew to ashes. Plastered to him, I pour every feeling I have for him into our kiss as I’m flooded with the warmth I’ve been continually denying myself. My eyes burn with a prick of fresh tears as he consumes me with his kiss. Tongues dueling, our fire burns brighter and hotter than any other I’ve felt with him, confirming my worst fear while at the same time filling me with the most profound sense of freedom.