Page 153 of Controlled Burn
Didn’t.
Come.
Her silence was a green light to him.
“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he growled. “Didn’t think you had it in you, preacher’s girl.”
Another finger. A rough stretch.
Her breath hitched. Her thighs clenched around his wrist—tight, like she didn’t want him to stop.
A broken sound escaped her throat—half gasp, half moan. She bit it back instantly.
But it was too late. Jake heard it. And smiled.
Her body reacted anyway. And she hated herself for it. For the heat. The pull. The way her hips jerked into his hand like a betrayal of everything she believed in.
He bit her earlobe.
“Bet you like it. Bet it turns you on—being ruined by someone like me.”
She sobbed, “Please—please, Jake—” God help her, she hated the way her body betrayed her.
He added a second finger.
She gasped.
Froze.
Then… softened.
Her head dropped. Her breath came fast now.
Still she said nothing.
Still she stayed.
Jake’s breath hit her ear again.
“Bet your daddy never imagined his little girl would come on a firehouse counter.”
Her eyes snapped open. “Jake—”
She sounded torn. Distant. Shaken.
But she didn’t tell him to stop.
She couldn’t.
And he didn’t hear her. Or maybe he didn’t care.
The vinyl floor was cold. Unforgiving. Her knees burned.
Jake unzipped his pants. His cock was already out—thick, hard, glistening.
“Open your mouth, preacher’s girl.”
Her body trembled. Her vision blurred. Her skin crawled.
