18. Reid
Reid
“Where are we going?” She asks with a giggle, clearly struggling to keep up.
I don’t answer until we are far enough away that I know no one can see or hear us.
Far enough away that the music is faint and the sound of nature overpowers everything but the thrumming of my own blood rushing in my ears.
I am both pissed off and turned on, but I am ignoring one of those sensations right now.
“Reid,” she says, and I stare down at her. My gaze alone stifles her. “Did you bring me here to kiss me?” she asks.
“No, I did not bring you here to kiss you,” I answer.
“Then what?” she asks. “I was having fun and…”
“Oh, I saw how much fun you were having,” I nod with a tight grin.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks.
“Every guy here was watching you dance,” I say.
“I didn’t notice,” she says.
“Of course not. You were too busy shimmying your tits around. Which every guy also noticed,” I state.
“Oh please. I don’t think every guy was looking at my tits,” she scoffs.
“Oh, really?” I ask. “And what makes you say that?”
I step closer, which at this point puts me so close to her that my body is pressed against hers and her body is pressed against a tree.
“Because you, unbeknownst to you, are every man’s type whether they admit it or not,” I state.
Quinn’s lips part as her mouth pops open, but her chin does not waver.
“What difference does it make who is looking at me or my tits or anything else, Lawyer Reid?” she asks. “As far as any of those men are concerned, I am with you.”
I lean in closer to her face now. “It’s a little hard to believe that you think you are making a statement that you are with me when your dress is making the statement you are here for anyone who wants to watch you fall out of it,” I say in a gravelly tone.
And fire reaches her eyes. “This is not falling out of the dress,” she shouts, thrusting her chest up at me. “This is falling out!”
Quinn grabs the bustline of her dress and rips it down, and her breasts drop with a bounce, fully exposed.
My jaw goes with them. My lips go slack. And my hands instinctively cover them, despite the fact that there is no one around.
“You think you’re so cute,” I tell her, fisting her small yet firm and soft tits in my palms. “But we both know why you wore this dress. It wasn’t because you look good in it, though we both know you do.
It wasn’t because you wanted the attention of all the men over there.
It was because you wanted attention from me,” I say, tracing her champagne-colored areolas with the tips of my thumbs.
“And you’re going to get it,” I tell her.
“Let’s just hope you don’t attract the attention of anyone else. ”
With that, I graze the pads of my thumbs over her nipples. I’ve learned in the short amount of time that I have known her, she is sensitive. Her skin is not often intimately touched. And it’s those places on her soft, beautifully sacred body that are responsive. Hungry. Her kryptonite.
Mine.
“Reid,” she says, but this is one time when begging isn’t going to work. As much as I enjoy watching her try.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” I ask as I flutter one thumb tip over her hardened nipple.
“You wanted me to touch you. To claim you. It’s one thing to walk in here together, wordlessly proclaiming that you’re with me.
It’s another for me to show you that you are with me,” I growl as my other thumb flutters, teasing the other nipple.
It’s enough to make her knees give out, and I let her lower herself to the ground.
But I also go with her. I sit down in that wet dirt and pull her onto my lap.
That way, she can’t get away. That way, the only thing she is fighting is the orgasm that I am convinced I can induce simply by toying with the breasts she has used to toy with me since she got in my car.
“You act innocent,” I say as I tease the tip of one nipple. “But you know what you are doing. Just the same,” I say as I switch to the other one again. “As I know what I am doing.”
Most girls like their nipples twisted, tugged, even bitten. But Quinn…Quinn likes to be caressed. Like a whisper. A breath. A vibration. A tickle on her skin that sets an aching fire through her body and makes her want grow between her legs, edging her to the point of insanity.
“Ohh…” she gasps, grinding against me as I go back and forth between each nipple.
“You have been so naughty today,” I tell her, and she nods.
“I know,” she says, her back arched to beg for more. But still, I just tease each one of them at a time, never fully giving her what she wants.
“Do you deserve an orgasm?” I ask her.
“No,” she murmurs.
“Do you need it?” I ask, and she nods.
I continue to go back and forth, and then I stop. I wait. I wait for her to look at me, eyes wide and blue, back arched, cheeks flushed, nipples hard. And then, I take both of them between my fingers and flick them relentlessly.
Quinn moans and grinds against me in my lap. My dick is hard in my slacks and pressed against her clit. And even though she’s only been grinding for a few moments, I have her worked up enough that an orgasm overtakes her as I continue to play with her.
When she finishes, she is so sensitive that she grabs my hands with hers and lowers my hands to my sides. Then she yanks her dress back up and shoves to her feet, and walks off. And I don’t know who got the better of whom this time.