Chapter 17 #2
Staring into her blue eyes, I run my thumb along her lower lip.
“Don’t feel like you have to ask me to come inside, Angel.
You don’t. And if you want to but you’re nervous that that means something you’re not ready for, don’t be.
I’d like nothing more than to just hold you, and if I don’t think I’d sound like I was trying to be sneaky and get you into my bed, I would have asked you to stay at the house with me earlier, instead of following the others out of the party when they left. ”
“So you want to stay the night with me?”
My grin is slow. “Yeah, baby. I do. Will you let me?”
She smiles, pulling me inside.
I expect her to close the door, and then maybe reach for some pajamas or grab the remote for late-night, trashy TV.
She doesn’t do either of those things.
No, she surprises me, instead pressing her palms to my chest, and she doesn’t stop until my knees hit the edge of the bed.
I go down, ass meeting the mattress, and she follows, climbing straight into my lap like she owns it.
Like she knows she’s the only thing I’d ever let take that kind of control.
Her knees bracket my thighs, her weight a slow, deliberate tease as she settles. Eyes locked on mine, mouth parted, waiting, for what, I don’t know. Permission? A sign to stop?
Not happening.
I grin, a little crooked and a little mean.
“You drive me mad,” I murmur, running my hands up the backs of her thighs, slowly. “You know that?”
Her answer’s a shaky breath, but her fingers slide into my hair, pulling just enough to make my gut clench. I let her. Let her take. Let her think for a second she’s running the show.
Then she starts to grind.
Not hard or fast, but that lazy, torturous roll of her hips that shoots heat straight through me. My hands tighten on her, fingers digging into the softness just under her ass.
And when she shifts again, this time reaching between us, cupping me like she knows exactly what she’s doing, my chest fumbles with a heady growl.
She’s smiling, proud of herself. That pleased little smirk that says she’s got me, that she knows what comes next, and I’m thinking she does.
One second, she’s smirking; the next she’s flat on her back, staring up at me with wide eyes and a breath that punches out of her like I stole the air from her lungs.
I don’t give it back. Not yet.
“Better?” I ask, voice low, hands braced on either side of her head, holding my weight just above hers. Not touching, but just close enough to let her feel me. “That what you wanted?”
She nods.
Cute, but not nearly enough.
I dip low, brushing my mouth against hers, just enough to make her ache.
“That little nod’s not enough, Angel.” My voice dips, heavy with promise. “You gonna lie there and let me teach you how to beg properly?”
She shudders, thighs pressing together like her body is answering for her before her mouth can even try.
I grin and pull back.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “We’ll start now.”
I don’t touch her right away. I just watch, letting her squirm under the weight of my stare, letting her feel the tension stretch like a wire between us, taut and humming.
Her teeth sink into her lower lip, a naughty little habit of hers, telling me she’s already on edge, more than ready to be pushed off it.
I start slow, trailing my fingertips down her sides with light, lazy strokes that are barely grazing skin. I want her aching before I even touch the places that count.
“You gonna stay still for me?” I hum, lips brushing the shell of her ear.
She nods, and I arch a brow.
“Yes,” she whispers, voice already strained. “I’ll stay still.”
“Good.” I kiss her jaw, then lower, mouthing a path down her throat, her collarbone, slow enough to drive us both insane. “You’re gonna earn every second of this.”
Her breath hitches as I drag my mouth down her chest, and I make it a point to take my time, worshipping but not rushing. Never rushing.
I want to draw out every sigh, every stuttered breath, until she’s too far gone to remember her own name and earn the right to the control she so willingly gave me.
When I finally get between her thighs again, she’s shaking.
I glance up at her.
“Hands stay where they are,” I say. “If you reach for me, it stops.”
She whimpers, actually whimpers, but manages a strangled “okay.”
Obedient. Desperate.
Fucking perfect.
I don’t tease this time and there are no more warnings needed. I give her exactly what she’s been begging for, my hands on her body, my mouth on her neck, my voice hot against her skin, all working in tandem to undo her one breath at a time.
And the whole time, I’m watching her.
Listening for the break.
Waiting for the moment she shatters so completely she forgets she ever wanted anything but this.
Her breath hitches. Her thighs press together like she’s trying to hold the pleasure back with sheer will alone. I don’t stop—I press my mouth higher on her throat, my hand sliding to her inner thigh, parting them, gripping them until she’s trembling.
Her hand twitches at her side and I pause, my tongue tasting the skin along her collarbone. “Don’t touch me, Angel. And don’t even think about coming until I say.”
She nods, frantic, fingers digging into the comforter beneath her.
I stop, pulling back just enough to make her feel the loss. “Say it.”
She breathes it out like a prayer. “Yes.”
And fuck, if I don’t feel something snap inside me.
Not just the hunger that’s already overwhelming, but something deeper. Something sharp and possessive and a little reverent, like I just got handed something no one else will ever touch.
She wants to be good for me. For me. And now all I want is to make sure she never forgets what that means.
Finally, I kiss her, but still not softly, and I don’t let her lead.
I take and I give in equal measure, tongue sliding against hers, hands moving up her ribs, under the jersey. My fucking jersey.
She tenses, just for a second, but still I pause, meeting her gaze. “Baby, you are like nothing I have ever known before. Don’t hide from me,” I say, voice quiet but steel-edged. “Not this. Not ever. Got it?”
She stares up at me, eyes glassy, breath shallow, and this time, instead of using her words, she does me one better, shimmying so the jersey slides up higher, and I help her out.
But when she tries to lift her arms, I back down with a shake of my head. “No. This stays on. I want to make you come with my name all over you,” I tell her, gently resting the material just over her chest.
Fuck me, she’s not wearing a bra, and when her pink, pebbled nipples come into view, I swear I forget how to fucking breathe.
“Christ,” I murmur, my dick swelling in my jeans. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
My hands are on her before I even think, sliding over soft curves and flushed skin, fingers skimming reverently across her ribs. I’m not rushing this. I refuse to.
This isn’t about getting off. It’s not even about control.
It’s about watching her come undone. Slowly, completely, and with no doubt about who did it to her.
She arches when I kiss the spot just above her left breast, sucking a mark onto that delicate skin there.
Her hips lift off the bed like she can’t help it, her body’s begging.
I press my hand between her thighs, but not to play. To hold her still.
“Stay down,” I purr against her throat. “You’ll get what you need. But you’re gonna take it the way I give it to you.”
She moans.
And I swear it’s the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard.
She tries to grind up into my hand, chasing friction, but I keep her pinned, applying just enough pressure to let her feel how close I am. Not giving in. Not yet.
“Didn’t I say not to move?”
She whines, frustrated, but I don’t let up.
“You want it that bad?” I kiss down the center of her chest. “Then take what I give you. Not a second before.”
She nods, her body trembling beneath mine, but that’s not enough.
“Say it.”
“Please,” she breathes. “Please, Chase.”
Fuck.
My restraint shreds a little at the edges.
I reward her, my mouth on her now, slow, open kisses down her stomach, letting her feel my breath, my teeth, everything I’m holding back. She’s panting before I even get my hands on her properly. By the time I hook my fingers in the waistband of her panties, she’s already soaked.
“Goddamn,” I mutter, mostly to myself. “You’re this worked up just from me telling you what not to do?”
Her knees jerk, and she nods again, desperate.
I slide two fingers along her slit, oh so fucking slow.
“You’re so good, baby,” I say, kissing the inside of her thigh, nipping a moment later. “Let me ruin you.”
She lets out a broken sound when I finally press into her, her pussy hot and tight, trying to suck me in when I only offer a half a finger. I swear I already feel her pulsing around me.
“Yeah,” I rasp. “There she is.”
I add a second finger, and pressing deeper, watch as they slide in and out of her heat, slick and coated with the proof of her arousal.
I could fucking come in my pants from the sight alone.
I just fucking might.
I add a third finger, driving in harder this time and her back lifts once more.
This time I don’t push her down, I jolt up, catching her nipple between my teeth, and hold on.
She lets out a soft cry, and I suck it into my mouth, fucking her with my hand, slow but deep, sucking her hard until she starts to shake.
I slow the pace a little, not because I’m trying to tease her, but because I want to learn her. Every sound, every twitch, every place that makes her breath catch in her throat.
She tries so hard to stay still, but I can see her unraveling, feel her legs trembling around me.
“You’re already close, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she gasps, eyes shut tight. “God, yes—please—”
“No,” I say, voice low but firm. “Not yet.”
She whimpers, hips lifting, chasing my fingers as I pull back.
I move up, hovering over her again. I kiss her like she’s air and I haven’t breathed in hours, fierce and consuming and just shy of reckless.
“You don’t get to come until I tell you to,” I say, against her lips. “Not until you feel what it’s like when someone does it right.”
She cries out when I slide back down and start over, this time using every bit of her I can manage with my control so close to snapping.
I suck on her throat, twist her nipple, and press down on her clit, my fingers still pressed inside. I bite her nipple, pinch her clit, and I curl my fingers inside her.
I groan, low and heady, and she’s fucking wrecked now.
Every inch shaking, convulsing, lips parted, whines filling the air, stomach sucked in and toes curled.
“Now,” I whisper. “Now, baby. Let go for me.”
And she does.
She falls apart like she was made to, her moan so loud, so fucking erotic I have to lift my hand to muffle it, and she licks my skin. Sucking on my fingers as she quakes beneath me, eyes falling shut.
She’s breathless, boneless, wrecked under me.
I kiss the inside of her thigh, press my forehead there while she comes down, still trembling. And when I crawl back up, she’s blinking at me like I did something holy.
Her hand lifts, shaky, reaching for my belt.
I catch her wrist midair.
“No,” I say, soft but deadly serious. I lean in, kissing her jaw, her cheek, her temple. “You don’t get me tonight. Tonight’s yours.”
She swallows hard. Her fingers curl around my arm. “But I want to—”
“I know.” I kiss her again, slower this time. “That’s what makes it even better.”
She blinks up at me, glassy-eyed, flushed, her mouth trembling in the aftermath.
And I smile.
It’s a little cocky considering, but it’s also real.
A smile that means she just fucked me up worse than I’ve ever been, and she doesn’t even know it yet.
I take her in my arms, tucking her to my chest and within minutes, literally maybe two, she falls asleep, and I’m almost shocked by the sense of pride that swells within me.
It’s not even necessarily about the moment she’s trusted me with. Well, maybe a little, but it’s more than that. It’s all of it. All of this.
Reaching out, I slide the pad of my pinkie along her temple, moving her hair from her face. She burrows closer, sighing into me, and I hold her tighter, my gaze flicking over her beautiful features.
It’s scary to say it out loud, but this feels a bit like a change in the tides—or a free play maybe is a better way to put it.
I got the girl, and instead of fate following that up with something fucked, I find out my hard work might just pay off.
Maybe this girl, this kindhearted, gorgeous girl, is the exception.
The one good thing I’m allowed without the universe’s retaliation.
Maybe, I no longer have to brace for a hit to come.
Maybe I really can keep the girl and the game.