sensations could be,
her thumbs drawing lazy circles around her areola, her fingers toying with the
buoyant flesh of her breasts, creating a warm cocoon of sweet sensation.
She hummed her response.
“I can’t imagine your nipples hardening with all that wet
heat surrounding you. They must be so pliable, so sensitive to the slightest
touch.”
Willingly, she accepted his suggestion. He was right. She
had to pluck hard to bring her nipples to full extension, but the sizzling
sensations that shot through her blood as a result made the nips of pain
entirely worthwhile. Between her legs, her labia pulsed with need.
She shifted in the water, exposing a breast long enough for
a silky rose petal to adhere to her skin. Her sharp intake of breath matched
Dante’s. He was watching from so close—and yet, he didn’t touch.
She should have opened her eyes, but she didn’t dare. She couldn’t
bear to face his need when she was nearly drowning in the power on her own. If
she looked, she might pull him into the tub with her. A girl could only take
so much teasing without some release.
“Do it,” he urged.
She bit her bottom lip. She’d pleasured herself before—more
times than she cared to admit—but never with an audience. Never while knowing
that she could have so much more if only she surrendered. If only she begged.
“No,” she said.
“You want to,” he countered. “The pulsing is maddening,
isn’t it? Especially when you know precisely how to sate the hunger. You
won’t let me take care of you, Macy. But you can take care of yourself. Isn’t
that what you’ve been trying to prove your whole life? How you don’t need
anyone to give you what you need?”
He was goading her. Challenging her at her core and she saw
no reason to deny the truth, especially when her body so desperately needed
what only she—at this moment—could provide. She slipped her fingers between the
folds of flesh, found her clit and stroked.
Leaning in close behind her, Dante whispered and cajoled,
made suggestions and suppositions that drove her further into madness. And when
she gasped for breath as her climax peaked, he kissed her.
With a splash, she wrapped her arms around him. He may have
promised not to drug her or get her drunk, but he intoxicated her with a long,
languid kiss that made every inch of her body ache for more. She wanted hot
and heavy—and again, he denied her. He kissed her softly, toying with her
tongue with only enough energy to bring her back to earth with gentle
persuasion.
When he pulled away, his gaze betrayed the depth of his
need.
“Make love to me,” she said, knowing his game could go no
further.
“No,” he said, standing and stepping back, creating a chasm
of space.
She attempted to stand. Her muscles wavered, but Dante
braced her with hands on her elbows. She rewarded his quick reflexes with a
hungry smile.
“You want to make love to me,” she said.
“Of course, but we’re not ready.”
“Because I didn’t come to you? Drop the game, Dante. We’re
both here. We’re both incredibly aroused. Imagine how hot and slick I am
right now. Imagine how easy your sex will slip into mine?”
She’d gone too far. She recognized the moment his control
nearly snapped, but instead of yanking her out of the tub and flinging her on
the soft mossy floor of the arboretum to finish what he’d started, he grabbed
her robe and nearly ripped the fabric in his haste to cover her.
Forcing herself to remain silent, her hopes soared as he lifted
her into his arms, refusing eye contact until he’d pounded up the stairs and
kicked open the door of the master suite.
Finally! Once they did this, they’d expend the last of
their mutual attraction and end this game of sexual teasing. He laid her on
the bed, leaving her to open the robe as he circled around to the footboard,
his eyes blazing, his nostrils flaring with unchecked lust.
Then,
her thumbs drawing lazy circles around her areola, her fingers toying with the
buoyant flesh of her breasts, creating a warm cocoon of sweet sensation.
She hummed her response.
“I can’t imagine your nipples hardening with all that wet
heat surrounding you. They must be so pliable, so sensitive to the slightest
touch.”
Willingly, she accepted his suggestion. He was right. She
had to pluck hard to bring her nipples to full extension, but the sizzling
sensations that shot through her blood as a result made the nips of pain
entirely worthwhile. Between her legs, her labia pulsed with need.
She shifted in the water, exposing a breast long enough for
a silky rose petal to adhere to her skin. Her sharp intake of breath matched
Dante’s. He was watching from so close—and yet, he didn’t touch.
She should have opened her eyes, but she didn’t dare. She couldn’t
bear to face his need when she was nearly drowning in the power on her own. If
she looked, she might pull him into the tub with her. A girl could only take
so much teasing without some release.
“Do it,” he urged.
She bit her bottom lip. She’d pleasured herself before—more
times than she cared to admit—but never with an audience. Never while knowing
that she could have so much more if only she surrendered. If only she begged.
“No,” she said.
“You want to,” he countered. “The pulsing is maddening,
isn’t it? Especially when you know precisely how to sate the hunger. You
won’t let me take care of you, Macy. But you can take care of yourself. Isn’t
that what you’ve been trying to prove your whole life? How you don’t need
anyone to give you what you need?”
He was goading her. Challenging her at her core and she saw
no reason to deny the truth, especially when her body so desperately needed
what only she—at this moment—could provide. She slipped her fingers between the
folds of flesh, found her clit and stroked.
Leaning in close behind her, Dante whispered and cajoled,
made suggestions and suppositions that drove her further into madness. And when
she gasped for breath as her climax peaked, he kissed her.
With a splash, she wrapped her arms around him. He may have
promised not to drug her or get her drunk, but he intoxicated her with a long,
languid kiss that made every inch of her body ache for more. She wanted hot
and heavy—and again, he denied her. He kissed her softly, toying with her
tongue with only enough energy to bring her back to earth with gentle
persuasion.
When he pulled away, his gaze betrayed the depth of his
need.
“Make love to me,” she said, knowing his game could go no
further.
“No,” he said, standing and stepping back, creating a chasm
of space.
She attempted to stand. Her muscles wavered, but Dante
braced her with hands on her elbows. She rewarded his quick reflexes with a
hungry smile.
“You want to make love to me,” she said.
“Of course, but we’re not ready.”
“Because I didn’t come to you? Drop the game, Dante. We’re
both here. We’re both incredibly aroused. Imagine how hot and slick I am
right now. Imagine how easy your sex will slip into mine?”
She’d gone too far. She recognized the moment his control
nearly snapped, but instead of yanking her out of the tub and flinging her on
the soft mossy floor of the arboretum to finish what he’d started, he grabbed
her robe and nearly ripped the fabric in his haste to cover her.
Forcing herself to remain silent, her hopes soared as he lifted
her into his arms, refusing eye contact until he’d pounded up the stairs and
kicked open the door of the master suite.
Finally! Once they did this, they’d expend the last of
their mutual attraction and end this game of sexual teasing. He laid her on
the bed, leaving her to open the robe as he circled around to the footboard,
his eyes blazing, his nostrils flaring with unchecked lust.
Then,
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