Page 36 of After Our Kiss

I whimpered, peeking through my lashes down at him. He was watching my face—my heart pounded, I shut my eyes again. “Sorry,” I said quickly.

Two fingers traced the V at the junction of my thighs. Up, down, he did it so many times. I was clay that he was molding. Without removing my panties, he rubbed his thumb over the dampening slit of my pussy. “Already so excited,” he observed.

He pet my clit so, so gently, as if he were rubbing the head of a daisy. I shuddered under every single stroke. I forgot about the camera. I even forgot that we were in a busted up house on a barren island. That people could be looking for me, right now, wondering if I was alive or dead or dying.

The bed shifted under his weight. Against his instructions, I opened my eyes again. His thick cock was naked in his fist. It wasn't the first one I'd ever seen, but it was easily the most beautiful. The tip was dark with arousal, made fatter by his hand's pressure. “Close your eyes,” he commanded, his pupils scalding me. That wasn't anger—that was undiluted lust.

Shutting my eyes tight made my senses heighten. I kept picturing him in my mind's eye; the way he was stroking me while stroking himself. Conway's shadow skimmed overhead, the bed trembling from his subtle, desperate motions.

He was jerking himself off.

Fingertips tweaked my firm clit; he moved faster, racing his own clock.He's going to come,I realized.But he wants me to finish first.Dizzying arousal flooded my body. I tingled down to my toes, muscles tightening as I rocked my hips.

“Don't look,” he moaned. “Eyes shut. Until I say. Understand me?”

“Yes,” I managed weakly. I was perched on a tightrope that threatened to tumble me into decadent pleasure every second that ticked by. My pussy was my world. It clenched helplessly, fluttering like a thousand butterfly wings. I wanted to be filled—I was empty and wet and losing myself in hedonism that waswrong.But I didn't care. I didn't want to care.

“Conway,” I gasped, “Make me come. I need to come so badly, please!”

“Then come for me,” he snarled, fingers working my clit like he knew me better than I did. “I can feel how badly your pussy wants to come,” he said, breathless.

“Ah, I'm there, don't stop, I'm...aah!” I moaned, vibrating against his fingers as I climaxed. He made lazy circles, never too much pressure, reading my subtle twitches to tell where I was too sensitive. Behind my eyelids, colors rotated like a carnival at night.

Sticky warmth landed on my chest. Conway hissed through clenched teeth, string after string of his seed coating me. Like he'd built it up for years waiting for me.

“Now,” he said thickly, his hand vanishing from my thighs. “Tell me how you look.”

I opened my eyes and stared at the mirror. My cheeks were flushed. I was breathing heavily, the motion shaking my naked breasts. His come was drizzled across my chest like icing on top of a cinnamon bun. I was exposed... vulnerable... “Beautiful,” I whispered. “I look beautiful.”

Conway shuddered—I felt it through his hand on my knee. “You truly do.”

Blinking away some of my delirium, I took him in. I longed to know what was going on in his head, but he was already turning away. Zipping his cock into his jeans, he walked over and flicked the camera off.

His distance created a chasm inside of me. I sat up, taking the wet-wipe he offered. Cleaning myself was more awkward than knowing he'd come on my breasts. It felt like a pointless transaction, the heat evaporating. I slid my clothes back on, but even that didn't carve out the pit of ice in my gut.

The only thing that could was answers.

“What will happen to me after this?”This,because I had no name for the things he was doing to me.

He paced the room, and I recognized he was trying to keep his emotions at bay. His voice came out with a hard edge. “You'll belong to my father when this ends.”

Disgust roiled up in the back of my throat. “This whole surrogacy bullshit is just you doing to me what he'd like to, then.”Belong to Facile?“Death would be better.”

His fists balled at his sides; he remained facing the wall. “You're not allowed to die.”

I laughed until it sounded more like screaming. “Allowed?You can't decide that.”

“I can,” he growled, whirling on me. Quickly he advanced, looming over me on the bed, his hands coming down to dig into the mattress on either side of my hips. “I decide everything for you, Georgia. It's up to me what you eat... it's my choice if you get to shower, or sleep, or if Imake you comeor tantalize you on the edge while you drip and beg for release.”

Like he controlled it, my pussy flexed. My tongue darted over my bottom lip. “You've only made it happen through force.”

His hand went into my hair, holding me where I was. Conway was hazy in my vision—the way the horizon of a sweltering desert was. I was sweating from the heat wafting off of his fit body. “Force,” he whispered, studying my eyes, “Or because you wanted it to happen?”

The tension in my belly increased tenfold. I was trying not to blink—if I did, I'd lose our unspoken contest of wills. “I never wanted any of this.”

His free fingers trailed down my naked belly, pausing over the top of my panties. Conway was coiled in preparation for another brawl. Hewantedto fight. Wanted me to fight back. “You never dreamed about being with me? Having me rub your clit, finger you deep, making you scream my name?”

“No.” I said it too fast; he saw through my lie and smirked. “But what about you?” I threw it back at him. Grabbing his palm, I pushed it under my sweater and onto my breast. My desire to get the upper hand made me bold. “How many times didyoujerk off to the thought of me?”

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