Page 146 of Dangerous Encore

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It'spoetry.

Distractingpoetry.

Fuck, it's not usually this difficult driving with ahard-on.

Or resisting making her come,period.

Don't get me wrong. Making Lacey come is my favorite thing in the entireuniverse.

That's why I need to torture her. I need every second of her pleasure Icanget.

Even if it's agony as much as it'secstasy.

Especially if it's agony as much as it'secstasy.

She pulls her hand to her inner thigh and sucks a deep breath between her teeth. "I'm too close. Ican't."

I drop my voice back to that demanding tone. "Youcan."

"I… I'm not sureaboutthat."

"You want me tofuckyou?"

"Yes," shebreathes.

"Whatelse?"

"Everything."

"You want me tospankyou?"

Her reply is a messy collection of vowels that can onlymeanyes.

She needs torture. She needs pain. It centers her. It pushes out everything else. It helps her work through the guilt eatingather.

I can't exactly complain about my fiancée needing me to spank her then fuck herbrainsout.

But I still wish she didn't feel this guilt about herparents.

They don'tdeserveit.

I know better than anyone that people don't deserve a second, third, eight millionth chance just because they happen to share halfyourDNA.

"Mal." It's a curse. Afuck you,you'reevil.

Iam.

And shelovesit.

I take her hand—the one she's been using to touch herself—and plant a soft kiss on each of herfingertips.

She always touches herself with her middlefinger.

Or middle and index, if she's fuckingherself.

I bring her index finger to my mouth and suck on her fingertip. It tastes like her. It tastesfuckinggood.

But it's nothing compared to her middlefinger.

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