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While one of his hands travels closer to my tightening nipple, the other snakes down to the hem of my pants, dusting light strokes just above the lace-covered entrance.

I know the material is soaked. I’ve been trying to think about everything but the fact that he’s ruined yet another pair of underwear.

“This is inevitable, baby. Say the word and I’ll make you feel so damn good.”

If I weren’t already so wound up from life, dance, the constant pressure I feel having to cope with the likes of my choices, I’d try and fight him, but somewhere, somehow, he joined the fight with me.

I’ve thought about this enough, what’s one more time?

The feel of his skin sears through mine as he waits for my approval, so he can finally pass the sheer entrance into my sacred territory.

Allowing him to linger on my skin, I sink into his touch, part of my head still pleading with me to put up some sort of buffer.

“Just this once.”

My breath constricts as his fingertips brush closer to where I want him. I swear I could come just like this.

“Tell me.” His touch is painfully soft.

Panting like a desperate animal, I give in.

“Yes.”

CHAPTER 25

JETT

After years of asking for a woman’s consent, night after night making sure that even after they’ve shown me in hundreds of different ways that they want me, never have I craved the acceptance like I do now.

I was a player, yes, but above all of that, my ego loved the stroke of being told yes.

Hearing how badly someone wants you has to be one of the best ways to do that.

Things with Fia feel different. Her yes means so much more. Sure, I can sense that she’s hanging on by a thread—I am too, a fraying thread—but I’ll hang onto it for dear life just to ensure I hear how she wants this too.

I crave it.

Maybe all it’s doing is keeping this game between us alive, but I’m enjoying playing.

As I sit here toying with the hem of her panties and plucking at her perky tit, I make it my mission draw this out for as long as I can. Green means go, not speed.

Fia’s body morphs to mine so perfectly, it’s like it knows she needs me just as much as I need her, but she’d rather crumble before she admits it.

“How much have you thought about me touching you?” I grumble against her back, taking in the sweet smell of her.

“I haven’t,” her words come out hoarse, I smile against her skin.

I cup her warm center, loving how perfectly she fits in my hand and how she’s practically dripping through the thin cotton.

“Well, I sure have thought about you.” I keep my hands unmoving. The fast twitches of her body tell on her more than her words ever could. “I’ve been thinking about that night for two years. What you sounded like, how you felt, how perfect you looked in my bed.”

Brushing circles over the fabric, I feel her clit pulse beneath my fingers. A small quiver moves up her legs as my hand slowly gains control.

“Enough,” she whispers.

“God no, Sofia baby, I’ll never get enough of you.”

I teeter closer to the apex of her thighs, but don’t allow myself to touch her soft flesh yet.