Page 6 of Twisted Pact
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Then, she grabs the back of my neck and drags me down for another kiss.
Good enough.
I hike her dress up even more and slip my hand higher until I reach the edge of her panties. They’re lace. Of course they are. I trace the fabric with one finger, and she whimpers into my mouth.
“Please,” she breathes.
“Please what?”
“Don’t make me say it.”
“I need to hear it, Mila. I need to know you want this.” I press my palm against her through the lace, and she bucks against it. “Use your words.”
“I want—” She breaks off when I increase the pressure. “God, yes. I want it. I want you to touch me.”
At her request, I slide my hand under the lace and find her wet and ready. She gasps when I circle her clit with my thumb, and her head falls back against the wall.
“Look at you.” I watch her face while I work her with my fingers, memorizing every expression. “So wet for someone you claim to hate.”
“Idohate you.” But her hips rock against my hand, completely betraying her words.
“Lie to me all you want, Zaika.” I slide one finger inside her, and she clenches around me so tightly that I nearly lose control. “That’s why you’re soaking my hand.”
“Shut up and—” She gasps when I add a second finger, stretching her. “Oh, God.”
I curl my fingers until her legs start to shake, my thumb never leaving her clit. She’s slick and trembling, her breath breaking against my neck. Every sound she makes shoots straight through me.
“That’s it,” I murmur. “Take what you need.”
“I can’t?—”
“Yes, you can.” I press harder, driving her higher. “Come for me, Zaika.”
She shatters, her body locking, and her voice catching in my shoulder. I feel every pulse as she comes apart in my arms, working her through it until she’s trembling and spent.
“There you are,” I breathe against her temple. “That’s what I wanted to see.”
I slowly withdraw my hand and pull the skirt of her dress back in place. She’s panting, her face is flushed, and she won’t meet my eyes.
She’s still shaking when her hands move from my shoulders to my belt. Her fingers fumble with the buckle, but I catch her wrists and pull her hands away.
“No.”
“What?” She looks up at me with confusion and desire warring in her eyes. “But I thought?—”
I grin, and the look of lust falls from her face, replaced by the familiar contempt I’ve come to expect.
“You bastard.”
“Probably.” I bring my fingers to my mouth and taste her, watching her pupils dilate as I do. “But you’ll remember this the next time you run. Good night, Zaika.”
I turn and walk away, adjusting myself as I go. My cock is hard as hell, and there’s no way I won’t have blue balls tonight. But the look on her face is worth it.
I glance back once and catch her still collapsed against the wall. Her dress is wrinkled, her hair is a mess, and her lips are swollen. She looks thoroughly wrecked and completely furious.
Perfect.
She can stew on that for a while. She’ll realize walking away from me won’t be as easy as she thought.
