Page 15
“I think you’re impatient.”
“I think I fucking hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
His fingers hook into the waistband of my underwear.
“Lift.”
I raise my hips. He slowly draws the lace down my legs and removes it. Cold air brushes my exposed skin. I wait for his hand to return. Instead, something soft touches my knee. My underwear. Rhys slides it into his pocket.
“Thief.”
“Spoils of the hunt.”
He parts my thighs. My pulse thunders. One finger glides through my wetness. I choke on his name.
“Quiet.”
“You brought me here to make me scream.”
“The night is young, Little Rabbit. I want you listening first.”
His finger presses inside me. My body welcomes him with humiliating ease. Rhys moves slowly, learning exactly what makes me tighten around him. When he adds a second finger, my heels dig into the table. Fuuucckkkk. A small whimper escapes.
“Relax.”
“I am relaxed.”
“You’re trying to break my fingers.”
“Maybe they deserve it.”
His thumb finds the sensitive bundle of nerves above them. Every clever response vanishes. Pleasure builds quickly, sharpened by the darkness and the restraint around my wrists. I roll my hips into his hand. Looking to chase my own release. Rhys stops moving.
“No.”
The word leaves me broken.
“You don’t take what I haven’t given.”
“I thought this was supposed to be my fantasy.”
“It is.”
“Then let me fucking come.”
“Ask properly.”
I breathe through the ache.
“Please let me come.”
“Not yet.”
He resumes. The pressure grows. My legs begin to shake. My breaths become short, helpless sounds. I’m almost there. Rhys withdraws again.
“Fuck!”
