Chapter 13
Soraya watched as the wicked grin vanished as quickly as it came. A shiver shot down her spine, and she swallowed.
His grip flexed around her throat, and she became very aware of the heat radiating off of him—warming her back. The scent of jasmine and sage turned heavier in the air, and on her next inhale, her thighs squeezed together as it flooded her senses, making her lightheaded.
Sprawled out around her, he tightened his hold on her neck, guiding her gaze forward. Her heart pounded, and the pulse between her legs intensified with each beat.
“I haven’t asked you to do anything you didn’t already want to do—have I, Love?” Lestis purred, steady and sure, as his free hand landed on her knees, pressed tightly together in front of her.
Soraya was momentarily stunned by the arousal coursing through her system. Words completely escaped her as he slid his hand down the slope of her thigh, tracing along the fabric of her dress and leaving behind a trail of heat before moving back up.
Lightly gripping her right kneecap, he whispered, “Open for me, Soraya.”
How did she end up like this again?
She was hungry…and decided to walk around downtown to get some food in her swanky new dress…and then…
She swallowed, then swallowed again as his thumb attached to the hand on her throat swiped gently up and down right over her throbbing pulse. Slowly, she parted her knees.
Lestis took a deep breath, and Soraya’s whole body moved with his chest as it expanded and contracted. His hand slid to grip the inside of her knee, guiding her leg open further. The dominance in his touch alone had her inner walls clenching tight.
The slit of her dress parted, revealing more and more of her smooth skin until the fabric gave way, sliding across her thigh and pooling at her center.
Her body twitched at the sensation of the silky material against her bare skin, and she bit her lip as some of it clung to the wetness coating her inner thighs.
Lestis didn’t stop guiding her leg open until her heeled foot was planted on the other side of his thigh, her left leg spread and pressed against his bent one.
With her legs stretched wide open, Lestis hummed his approval, and she felt him take another deep breath. The scent of her sex hung in the air, making her wonder if he, too, could sense it.
Shivering, Soraya’s eyes traced down her inclined body, heat rising to her face when she noticed her hardened nipples straining against the gossamer, cellophane-like fabric of her dress in an obscene manner.
The material left nothing to the imagination, and her gaze drifted lower…
finally landing between her spread, trembling legs.
The thin yellow-gold dress was the only barrier keeping her dripping arousal from being fully visible to Lestis, who was taking a long, unhurried look at her body. She prayed he wouldn’t realize just how wet she was, or how the fabric clung to the softest part of her inner thigh.
She could tell him to stop, to keep him from discovering the drenched, throbbing truth beneath the dress...but she didn’t want to.
Without a word, they both watched as his fingers trailed a path down her leg, drifting lower and lower until they barely brushed the pooled fabric at her center.
Her breathing grew shallow, and her body began to grow hot.
His hand on her neck felt like a hot brand as she let herself relax into his searing grip.
Her breath hitched as his fingers lingered just at the edge of her dress. Her thighs trembled as she strained to open them wider, waiting for his heated touch to slip beneath the fabric and soothe the ache building between her legs—
His hand abruptly changed directions back up her thigh. She bit her lip to keep a noise of frustration from leaving her lips.
Lestis chuckled, as if detecting her frustration anyhow. “Relax, Love. I’ll get there.”
Fucking bastard, Soraya thought as she clenched her jaw.
Soraya hated how calm and steady he sounded, but—exhaling slowly, she realized just how tense her body had become. She took in a long, deep breath, feeling herself unravel even as her body grew hotter and hotter.
The musky scent of that damned jasmine and sage washed over her, filling her lungs. Her chest shuddered as she dragged down the intoxicating scent. It pulled her deeper and deeper into its alluring depths until she was drowning in it.
Suffocating in the sweetest way possible.
Lestis said something she didn’t catch, and his hand tightened gently around her neck, pulling her head back until she was staring, unseeing, at the ceiling as she burned and burned in the sensation that was him.
His heat had turned from a cozy warmth to a heated furnace. Soraya melted back into his hard, scorching frame, their bodies melding together, as her mind floated, untethered from any logic.
She was surrounded by him.
His light, teasing touches resumed—setting her entire body throbbing with need.
His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down her leg, heading toward her pounding, aching center—only to veer back up at the last moment, leaving her breathless with anticipation.
Then he switched, repeating the same maddening path down her other leg. Down, then up. Switch.
Down.
And.
Up.
His grip on her neck grew tighter, his thumb swiping lavishly up and down her neck—nothing but a careless, featherlight touch. With each pass of that thumb, her heated skin turned all the more sensitive. Her body came alive, fixated on his burning touches.
Soraya’s body trembled under his undeniable ownership of her at that moment. Her mouth fell open as uneven pants stuttered through her lips. Her delicate inner walls clenched and released—clenched and released. Her body throbbed to the rhythm he was creating on her skin.
Before she knew it, her hips were rocking with every swipe.
Soraya was vaguely aware of him burying his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent, but her focus remained fixed on the tantalizing path of his hand.
It curved inside her inner thigh, teasingly brushing against the edge of the dress that covered her core, making her squirm against him.
The feel of his erection pressing into her lower back left her mouth dry.
He tsked, suddenly abandoning the slow, torturous exploration of lazy touches. His hand lifted completely from her thigh, and a small noise of want escaped her lips. But then, his heavy hand landed squarely between her legs.
The heat of his palm met the heat of her core as he cupped her. She nearly choked.
“Tell me what you want, Soraya,” Lestis whispered seductively in her ear.
She closed her eyes, drowning in desire. Words eluded her completely; a long, deep moan was her only answer as she moved her hips back and forth, desperate to create friction against his palm. Her clit throbbed under his denying touch as his hand moved with her.
“Touch yourself, Love.” The command dripped off his lips as he removed his hand.
A whimper escaped her throat. She wanted—no, needed more.
He laughed. That bastard laughed, amused and utterly unaffected by her plight. Soraya wanted to make him pay.
She was going to make him pay, she thought to herself as she unclenched her hand from his dress pants. With a mind of its own, her hand reached between her legs, and before she could slide it under her dress, he gripped her wrist like an iron band, stopping her.
“No, Love. Not like that,” he admonished.
An annoyed breath escaped her as Soraya strained against him, but she didn’t have to attempt to form words before he explained further.
“Touch yourself over your dress; this material heightens the senses.” Before she could do just that, he added, amusement lacing his tone, “I forgot how much you don’t know. So, I shall show you.”
His hand slipped between her thighs, and she could feel the heat of his fingers right before they pressed down on her clit.
She gasped.
His deft fingers spread the fabric taunt across her folds, and without giving her a chance to process the feel of it, his fingertip stroked her stiff bundle of nerves and began to trace around it.
The sensation was like no other. Both the heat and the cooling effect of the fabric had her breath catching—it was like warm water running over her pussy.
She let out another moan.
“Doesn’t it feel good, Love?” he asked, fully aware she was beyond speaking.
Her body shuddered as he dragged his teasing fingers around and around her clit, but he never applied the pressure she desperately needed to feel truly satisfied.
She tried to push up into his hand, but once again, he denied her the pleasure, making her whimper in frustration.
His breath was on her cheek, then his teeth grazed her earlobe, nibbling softly and adding to the whirlwind of sensations sweeping through her.
Out of frustration, she reached down and clasped his wrist. But—fucking hell—his hand didn’t budge at all. His causal strength kept her right where he wanted her.
“I would hate to give you any more orders, Soraya. So this is entirely up to you and what you want. You just have to ask.”
He was the biggest bastard she’d ever met. “T-Touch—”
He hummed under his breath, “Did you say something?”
“Please,” she begged, the inferno under her skin pulsed, burning every nerve in her body as her clit throbbed and throbbed.
“Since you asked so nicely.”
The dress covering her drenched pussy was peeled back, the material—having been glued to her delicate, sticky folds—felt like a bandage being ripped off, causing her to suck in air sharply.
Then she gasped as his fingers went straight to her entrance.
He didn’t hesitate, plunging his middle finger deep.
Her body tensed before slacking—tight and loose in all the right places at his sudden intrusion.
Her pussy clenched down around his digits, but it wasn’t enough. He had been teasing her poor clit all this time and was still denying her what she really wanted. His finger stilled inside her.