Page 66 of Only for Him
A filthy little thing.
Soaking wet.
Only for him.
My skin buzzes under the closeness. My pulse races.
I hate how my body answers his. Hate how ready I am.
“Don’t you want to know why I’m so obsessed with you?” He tugs at the zipper slowly, opening it one tooth at a time to savor the moment.
Even though I know it hardly makes a sound, it’s as loud as a buzzsaw at my ear. My chest rises and falls, and my panties are hopelessly soaked.
“I do,” I confess, my voice hardly a whisper as another shiver rushes through me.
“Because we’re hunting the same monsters, little viper.” He leans closer, the raw intensity in his eyes sparking something deep within me. “We’re after the same thing: justice.”
“Justice for what?” I shudder as his breath stirs the hair at my neck.
He doesn’t answer as he finishes unzipping my pants, and slowly pulls them open to expose my soaked panties.
My heart pounds in my chest.
I press closer, challenging him, daring him to answer. “For who?”
Still, he doesn’t answer, and I remember that he’s supposed to be asking the questions and not me.
His fingers dip beneath the waistband of my panties and the touch stokes a fire already crackling beneath my skin.
I gasp as he brushes along my slit and splays me open.
"Wet already," he says, voice rough with approval. "For a man who kills."
I bite back my retort.
My clit is swollen, throbbing as he circles it with the pad of his finger. The pleasure is sharp, almost painful in the need it leaves in its wake.
"You want to know who I do this for, but I’ve already told you.” His finger slides over my folds, gathering wetness before slipping inside me. “You don’t deserve that answer yet. You need toearnthe right to ask."
And Idowant to earn them. I want him to give me everything.
What won’t I do for that? For him?
I meet his gaze. He knows what this is.
I'm losing control of the situation. If this is a game, he's winning. His cock, thick and hard, presses into my hip through his pants from the proximity, and I decide I need to change the rules.
When I angle my hips up, I do it becauseIwant to.
His breath catches in his throat for a split-second. He recovers quickly enough, but it’s too late.
I lick my lips and roll my hips harder, tighter against his hand. Let him feel what’s slipping away from him.
His eyes widen. It’s the first real crack in his control that I’ve seen.
“You think I can’t handle the answer?”
“Not if you keep hiding from me.” Breathless anticipation builds between us. “From yourself.”
