Page 23 of Unexpected Redemption

A thick lump of doubt forms in my throat, surrounding my windpipe and leaving me speechless.

“Keep those legs spread for me. Lean back against my chest and let yourself feel. Watch the show in that mirror like the kinky little voyeur you are.”

“Pot calling the kettle?—”

He returns two fingers to my clit, cutting off my words.“This way, we can be exhibitionists and voyeurs simultaneously.”

“What if I have to pulse my hips?”

“Try not to, sweetness. I want you to focus on the sensation of being full. Get comfortable with it again. Plus, if you start writhing around, you’ll make me come too soon. And I want to stay hard for you for as long as this takes.”

“Normally, I’d say that sounds like ayou problem,” a moan interrupts my taunting, “but because you’re doing it for me, I suppose it’s awe problem.”

His fingers grind harder into my clit. “Sass me again, and I’ll smack your pussy.”

“So I get to sass youandget a clit smack? Not seeing the downside,” I simper, heat flooding my cheeks and pleasure dancing all over my body.

He doesn’t even hesitate. With a speedy flick of his wrist, he smacks the top of my pussy twice, right where my clit is twitching and tingling.

“Oh my god,” I wail.

The shock quickly recedes, giving way to a huge burst of tingles. The boundary between pain and pleasure is permanently obscured when I’m at his mercy.

My pussy floods with arousal, making it harder not to slip and slide around his cock as my pelvis shudders involuntarily.

He growls into my neck, then goes back to flicking my clit. “No bucking those hips, sugar bear. Just hold still and feel the pleasure.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know. And you’re doing so well.”

While lavishing my neck and trailing the fingertips of his free hand along my collar, he gets me right up to my edge. The sweet relief of orgasm is a breath away.

But it doesn’t happen.

And it has nothing to do with not being allowed to thrust my hips. It’s all in my head.

Sensing my dejection, he slows his movements and whispers encouraging words. “Lettie, I’m so proud of you. You can do this. Get out of your head. Focus on how it feels and the sound of my voice. Nothing else.” He kisses my jaw. “That’s all you need to do. I’ll take care of everything else, sweetness.”

I flex my thighs and arch my back, sinking into the sensations. “Okay. Try again, babe.”

Back to work he goes, swirling and flicking my clit. “Which do you like better, baby? This?” He presses the tender bud between his fingers, subtly pinching it and working it up and down. “Or this?” He adjusts to a rougher, faster, side-to-side stroke. My moans crescendo. “Or this?” Instead of the harder friction, he softens his touch, moves slightly off my wet flesh, and rubs the pads of his fingertips over the surface. It’s a lighter motion, and oh my fucking hell. That’s it.

Before I can answer him, he says, “It’s this one. I feel you clenching around my cock.”

“Mm-hmm,” I confirm with a frantic nod of my head.

With this lighter stroke, the urge to thrust into his touch becomes too powerful to resist. “If I can’t thrust, you need to stop. I can’t hold back.”

“Go ahead and work your hips, sugar. Just for a minute.”

With his blessing, I buck into his hand, searching for harder pressure, then quickly backing away from it.

I get close.Sofucking close. My orgasm is right there. I could practically touch it.

“Look in the mirror,” he pants out.

When I catch his gaze in the reflection, the concentration in the lines of his face and the depths of his irises send me closer to the peak.

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