Page 88 of Maneater
He smiles wide, a hand moving up my inner thigh.
“Mmm, I think we both know you’re not being completely truthful,” he says, his hand grazing back down the same path and moving up my other leg. “What are you doing here at the resort?”
Oh my fucking god.
Is this what I think it is?
“I’m on vacation.” The lie slips so smoothly off my tongue, an impulse from years of doing this that I almost convince even myself. That’s half the battle in this job—in telling half-truths and complete lies, you have to do it so well, you sell even yourself on the story.
And I’m really good at my job.
“You know, I kind of thought this was going to be more…touching instead of talking,” I whisper.
“Oh, there will be plenty of touching, Josie. Once you tell me what I want to know.” His fingers trail up my inner thigh, and my heart pounds with anticipation. I can feel it all over, but most intensely between my legs.
“Is this…is this an interrogation?” I ask, fighting back a shocked laugh. He raises an eyebrow at me.
“Is there something you should be interrogated for?” There’s a smirk on his lips as a finger runs over the seam where my pussy and thighs meet, teasing but never touching where I need him most.
“I…” My mind goes blank when he takes that finger up and over my pubic bone and down the other side. “Rowan,” I whisper. I’m unable to focus on anything but my need and the promise of him.
“Can I touch you here?” he asks, moving his hand to hover almost politely over my pussy.
“Oh my god, yes, please,” I beg, and again, he smiles before using his thumbs to part me, moving to his knees on the floor and staring at my center.
“God, you’re pretty,” he mumbles to himself, then runs a finger through my center. “All wet and needy, exactly how I think I’m going to like you best.” A shaky breath leaves my lips. “Do you need me, Josie?”
I nod frantically. “Yes. I need you. Please.”
That seems to appease him as he slides a finger inside. My body tightens around the digit instantly. We both groan in unison at the feeling of him sliding inside me. Quickly, he slides out and inserts another slowly, and when I try to buck my hips up to get more, I remember I can’t. I can’t do much of anything tied to the bed like this. “Oh, fuck.”
He chuckles deviously before moving his fingers faster.
“At my mercy, at my whim,” he says, fingers moving faster, crooking up as they slide in, brushing against my G-spot. I realize then I’m already close, faster than I’ve ever climbed there before. I don’t know if it’s just the long lead-up, the fact that I didn’t comeyesterday, or that I’m tied up and at his mercy, but I’m not questioning it.
“Rowan, please,” I beg softly, and he smiles down on me.
“The first one will be a freebie, just for being my good girl,” he says, and even though I’m confused and stuck on the first one, I nod, pleading. “Some goodwill to remind you that, regardless of everything, I trust you. I believe you. I’m going to take care of you.”
I nod, looking down my body at him.
“Yes, yes. I’m good. I’ll be good, Rowan.” I need it more than I need air right now, and he must see it because he puts his thumb to my clit and starts to pump a finger into me. My hips move as much as I can without bending my knees, without breaking the unspoken rules, and in just a few moments, I’m tipping over the edge, screaming his name as an orgasm washes over me.
Except he doesn’t stop. His fingers keep moving, keep fucking me, though it’s slower now, more torturous, and he’s added a thumb to my clit. I don’t get to bask in the relief of the orgasm he just gave me because my body is already moving back to that same state of need.
“I’ve never seen anything hotter than watching you come, Josie,” he murmurs, eyes locked on where his fingers are working me. I tighten around him, and he groans. “So fucking pretty, watching you take me. I could do this all night, you know. Make you come.”
I shake my head because, as delightful as that sounds, I want more. I want…I want everything.
“Please, Rowan. Just…” My mind doesn’t work, not right now, not like this, when my body is already gearing up for another orgasm from his endless ministrations, his fingers that already seem to know my body so well. “Please just fuck me.”
He smiles up at me, and a devious look is written across my face. “I will. Once you tell me what I want to hear.”
His eyes roam over my body, tied up and at his mercy, and I understand completely. He’s tied me to his bed not just to have fun and make me feel good, though I know that’s part of the plan, but to convince me to tell him the truth of why I’m here. There’s a glint inhis eye, like he already knows the truth and wants to hear it from me, wants to pull it from me.
But despite it all, I’ve never felt safer than I do in this moment with him.
Right now, I feel completely cared for. I know in my gut if I told him to stop, really stop, he would drop whatever game he’s playing. He would step away, untie me, and, if I wanted, he would fuck me sweet and slow.
