20. Chapter 20 #3
“Do you want to come?” he asked. He kissed the point where my shoulder met my neck, and I shivered.
He knew I did, and he knew exactly how to keep me on the edge—and how to bring me back from it.
And the further I got from that peak, the more I felt the pins and needles trickled from my fingertips into my wrist.
“Yes.” I tried to move my hips again before he used his body to pin me in place.
“Then say it, little pearl. You know it’s not wrong.” He ground his palm against my clit as a reminder, and I whimpered when my need won. “Tell me what a desperate and pathetically needy slut you are for only me. You said you want to come, so say it.”
I whined. Connor kept three fingers inside me, using just his middle finger to stroke my g-spot. “You can’t be serious,” I objected.
“I’m very serious, little pearl.” He half-chuckled, continuing his meticulously slow movements. “I want to hear you scream what a needy slut you are for me. For only me. I want to hear you beg for me to make you exactly that in the way you know only I will.”
He pressed against me, starting to move his fingers slowly—much too slowly to bring me anywhere back to the tingling, quivering point I had been at as quickly as I wanted. I rocked my hips, seeking friction he wouldn’t give me.
“Say it,” he demanded in a low voice. “Say it, and we’ll both get what you want.”
My legs trembled while he held me too far from the edge to find any release or satisfaction. He knew exactly how to keep me floating in purgatory. “Connor, please,” I begged.
“You know what to do, little pearl.” Then, he stopped moving, and when he slowly started to pull his fingers from me one at a time, a rush of panic replaced the humiliation.
“Fuck. Fine!” I cried, nearly shrieking.
“I’m your desperate, pathetic, needy fucking slut, and nobody can make me come apart like you can.
Now, please, Connor. Stop teasing me. Please let me come!
” I could feel the desperation in my own voice, but, instead of feeling shame, I was just overcome with need.
He was grinning behind me—I could hear it in his tone.
“Just like that. I love hearing you say it.” He filled my pussy with three fingers, pumping them into me and rolling his hand over my clit.
In his hand and pinned against the wall like this, I was his, and there was no need to remind me of it.
I forgot about any danger and the anger he probably still felt.
All I cared about was feeling the spring-like tension swirling in my core, growing dangerously close to bursting.
“I love feeling your body say it even more.”
My legs buckled when I came, and I was thankful for the wall.
Connor’s grip on my wrist grew tighter, and he pressed closer to me while my body shook.
His fingers massaged and coaxed me through every wave of my orgasm while the paint absorbed the sweat from our bodies.
Then, he pulled his hand from between my legs and turned me so my back was pressed against the wall.
Still, his other hand held my wrist above me, and I looked up at him.
“Was that so hard?” he asked, holding his glistening fingers in front of my face. “Want to taste your desperation?”
I parted my lips, and Connor ran his fingers over them before he lined all four along my bottom lip. He pushed down onto my tongue and shoved half his fist into my mouth, leaving a trail of my release as he worked his fingers toward the back of my throat.
“Just like that. Clean up your mess and taste every drop.” My eyes watered. I gagged slightly, closing my lips around his hand and sucking before I choked again. The tears rolled down my cheeks, and when Connor pulled his hand from my mouth, I sucked in a deep breath.
“Don’t cry yet, little pearl. You can do that when I walk away.
” He licked along my cheek, gathering the trail of my tears on his tongue.
Then, he gently curled his finger under my chin and kissed me as if his golden eyes didn’t still glow with anger.
I stared at him when he took his hand away from my wrists, but I left them against the wall like they were frozen there.
Even when he took a step back, I paused.
“Wait, what?” I asked, finally realizing what he meant when he took his first step. When I walk away. My eyes started to sting, and a lump formed in my throat. “Connor, no. Stop.”
He didn’t stop.
“No, no,” I begged, going after him and grabbing his arm. He turned and looked at my two-handed grip on his wrist. “Please don’t walk away. I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry.” Tears started to stream down my cheeks faster, blurring every step he took.
He turned around, and my heart stopped. “Go home, Grace,” he said, and my blood ran cold.
“I don’t want to go home. I said I’m sorry. I’ll never do anything to put myself in danger like that again. I promise.” My voice broke on the last word, and my heart followed suit when he shook his head.
“Good,” he said. He kissed the tip of my nose and then stepped back. “Because the only one who gets to make you cry is me when you fall apart like that. Now, go home.”