Page 18 of Keeping Mr. Sweet

“Truth, Ash,” he orders.

“Both,” I whisper. One only works with the other. Doesn’t he know that? He’s the only person who’s ever made me feel good beyond some dumb orgasm. He’s the only man who gets inside my head in a good way. I need whatever I can get from him.

“Well you have it, Ash. All of my attention.” His gaze stays glued to where I’m touching myself.

“Touch me,” I beg, pulling my hand from my pussy.

He growls. “No.” One side of his mouth flicks up as though he’s privy to some secret I don’t know. “I said you have my attention. Not that I’d touch you.”

That calm look of control he’s wearing makes me squirm. We’ve always smashed into each other at a hundred miles an hour, taking what we needed from each other, but this... “You’re not going to—”

“Fuck you?” He gives a single shake of his head. “No, I’m not. I’m just going to watch while you finger yourself to orgasm.”

“But...” But what? My whole body screams for me to do what he’s suggesting, no telling me, is going to happen. My insides are tightening already, spasming with joy at the idea of coming for him.

“Hand between your legs, Ash. Show me that glistening pussy while you stretch it out with your fingers.”

Automatically I follow his lead, doing exactly what he commands. Sliding my fingers between my pussy lips and stretching myself out for him to see.

“Fuck yourself,” he says, low and guttural. “Slowly.”

I spear two fingers into my entrance, guiding them in and out with as much patience as I can muster. I was so close to getting off when he burst into the room, and having him watch me and not explode is taking all my control. I press my head back into the pillow and squeeze my eyes shut to block out the effect he’s having on me.

“Don’t look away,” he tells me. “Not when you’ve worked so hard to get my attention.”

I open my eyes and get lost in the lust roaring in his and it pushes me right to the edge of sanity. Whatever this intensity that hides behind his half-mast lids is, I need it in a way I don’t understand. I shudder from the tips of my toes right up to my hair as my insides clench around my fingers in long dizzying waves until I’m a wrung-out, post climax mess.

“All right,” he says, standing up and walking to the door as I collapse into the mattress. “Get some sleep.”

The door shuts quietly before I can say anything at all. I feel awkward and uncomfortable with his departure. I’m at a loss over why what just happened between us felt better than all the times we fucked. How am I supposed to sleep after that?

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