Page 76 of What Happened on Roslyn Street?
“Have I? I thought you only wanted me because”—I gasp as his hands squeeze me tighter, daring me to finish the sentence—“of the vision.”
“No. His eyes narrow. “Do I need to show you how I long for you? It seems I gave you the wrong impression.”
“It seems you did.” My voice is weak.
He roams, fingers moving to my heat, letting out a low hiss. “You’re not wearing…”
“No,” I say, growing warmer.
“Fuck.”
I’ve never heard Caldwell curse before. The sound leaves me blinking in surprise, but there’s no time to focus on that—not when his fingers slide over my heat.
I reach for his shoulders, hitching a leg around his thigh to give him better access. He presses me hard against the wall.
Harsh breaths leave his nose as he feels me. His fingers circle over my clit firmly—with none of the teasing from last time. We don’t have time for that, and we’re all too aware, leaving me bucking desperately into his hand. Whimpers fall from my lips.
“Shh. Be good,” he whispers, plunging two fingers into my core. “Everyone in the building will hear how needy you are.”
My mouth pops open in surprise, and the sound I make is louder, his words pushing me in ways I’d never imagined.
“You like when I talk to you like that?” he croons, his thumb brushing over my clit.
I nod wordlessly, losing my mind as he curls his fingers into me.
“Oh, God…”
“There are no gods here,” he says, whispering against my ear, his breath giving me goosebumps. “There are only demons, love. You can scream as loud as you want. You can be anything you want. No one will judge you if you like being talked to like this.”
“I do,” I whine.
It’s the encouragement he needs. His hips move along with the action, grinding against me as he fucks me with his fingers, and our words are lost to moans and groans. I’m clinging to his shoulders, stars in my eyes, staring at the darkened ceiling.
In a moment, his fingers are gone, but his lustful gaze remains. I feel his hard bulge pressing against my hip, and another whimper leaves my mouth—an aftershock or the thought of what comes next. I haven’t begged yet. Will he give it to me anyway?
I don’t have time to ask. His wet fingers push into my mouth, and I open, taking him in.
“Clean me up,” he grunts, grinding into me.
I run my tongue along his fingers, greedily lapping him up, tasting myself on his skin. It’s worth it to hear the grunts, to feel him pressing harder against me, as desperate for release as I am for more of him.
I suction my mouth around his fingers, and he pushes harder, his lithe fingers hitting the back of my throat.
“That’s it,” he says as I moan around him. “You have the prettiest mouth. Perfect mouth.” He watches in awe, lips parted as he thrusts his fingers into my mouth.
In a fluid motion, he pushes down—and I move with him. He lowers me to my knees.
I’m at eye level with what I want, staring at his bulge as he smoothly pulls his fingers from my mouth. I’m empty without him, my lips parted with hunger, and my thighs pressed together.
“I can’t last another moment without feeling you around my cock,” he says, fingers weaving into my hair. “Iwon’t fill your pussy until you beg, but I can fill your throat. Is that what you want?”
Rather than answering, I open my mouth, tongue flat, expecting him to use me. He grips my cheeks instead, not tight, but enough to make a point.
“I asked a question,” he says, soft and patient.
“It’s what I want.” My voice is tight. I glare. It isn’t the same excruciating teasing as last time, but Caldwell is still pushing my buttons… and he loves it, smiling as he looks down at me on the floor. I love it, too—embarrassingly—soaking wet between my legs. “I want to taste you.”
“Then work for it,” he says. “Take off my pants.”
