Page 166 of Facing Off
For him.
For his eyes. His warmth. His existence. All his different, lovely, adorable, maddening smirks. How visibly turned on he is right now, and how viciously he’s holding himself back. His pained, slight smile. “When can I touch you? I’ll make it good, Sonya. I promise, baby.”
I go to him. Circle him.
His hands fist on nothing.
He’s beautiful and mine. And I adore him so much it hurts, along with this other yawning, all-encompassing feeling that settles into my bones. Reaching out, my fingers smooth across a jaw so set that it must be hurting him to clench it like that. “How about now? Touch me now.”
It’s as if I gifted world peace in the palm of his hands. His grin is so incandescent as he cups and squeezes my ass and works a strap of my camisole. It doesn’t budge. Not an inch. “There are too many of these.”
“Yeah, it was a nightmare to get into it.”
“I can’t—I’m sorry, baby.”
Sorry?
Before I can blink, he rips half of them apart. Lace flutters to the ground.
“Oh my God,” I moan.
“I’ll buy you a room full of replacements, Sonya, I swear. Please don’t be mad,” he says, pleading with me.
I’m gulping in air, feverish, as he drags his teeth across my skin.
“You really are a Neanderthal,” I say, grinding my hips against his.
I’m spun around. The wall of his fully clothed body is behind me. He pauses. “Too much?”
“Keep going,” I beg.Please more.
“If there’s anything you don’t like, the way I’m touching you, my dirty talk?—”
“I will. Now—” I grab his wrist. And try to bring it lower to where I throb the most.
He doesn’t need more guidance. Adrian rips the last bit of fabric away and sinks his middle finger deep inside me. The stretch has my eyes rolling back.
With his other hand, he reaches down and cups the spot above my knee. A split second later, my leg is back in the air. Like his personal ballerina, he’s positioned me open. So he can go deeper.
Both of us whimper as he drags the digit in and out of my tight channel. At the same time, his thumb coaxes circles, applying delicious friction to my clit. Slowly, torturously?—
I’m clenching, moaning, thrashing in his arms, and I almost come right there.
But then the room shifts. One-armed, he lifts me off the ground and carries me forward all the way until we’re in front of a mirrored wall. Now I can watch him finger-fuck me.
“So wet and needy, baby. Wait until I fuck you so long and so deep, my cock is all you’re going to feel even when I’m not inside you.”
God. His words alone. They have me shaking and sweating.
“Give me one like this first,” he breathes into my ear. “You can do that for me, right?”
My spine bends as he inserts another finger. This time it’s his whole hand working me over, along with his thumb on my clit. The perfect pressure as my mind unravels.
“You’re soaked, baby. So wet you’re going to take me so goddamn well tonight.”
“Adrian,” I moan.
“Don’t worry, darling. It’ll be good for you. My cock is going to fill up your pussy.”
