Page 150 of Sweet Caroline
“Please, just…” I pant, the desperation growing intolerable. “I need to come.”
He tuts. “Bad girl.” His voice is like velvet as he flicks my clit, sending an arc of electric heat through my center that threatens to undo me. “You forgot how to ask.”
I meet his gaze with a heady mixture of lust and resentment.
“You know it’s ‘please,sir’.”
I swear, I’d keel over if I wasn’t tied to this chair. I try again. “Please, sir.” Pleasure rips through my body when he drives his fingers back inside me. “Oh, God!”
“Shhh…” Miles shakes his head, though I don’t miss the sly smile as he clamps his free hand over my mouth. “Can’t let anyone hear my little slut begging to come, can we?”
I’m shaking. I might actually fall apart.
“I can’t—” I try to say, though my voice is muffled against his palm. Shuddering and frenzied, I try to stifle my moans as he rubs my clit with his thumb, working his fingers at some new, delicious angle.
“If you make too much noise,” his voice is slow and liquid, “we’ll have to stop.”
The violent way I shake my head has him chuckling.
“No, huh?”
“Mm-mmm.” My eyes are pleading when they meet his.
“Aw, my bratty whore just needs to come so bad.”
I nod, desperation holding me in its grip.
“Alright, then,” he says, adding another finger that makes my vision blur. “Here’s what’s gonna happen: you’re gonna ride my hand until you come so hard you can’t see straight.”
“Mm-hmm.” I nod again.
Already there.
“And you’re gonna be nice and quiet.”
Yes. Anything.
“Then you’re gonna slip those panties back on,” he adds, his gaze dropping to where his fingers curl delicious strokes against my inner walls, “over our little mess down here.”
The visual floods my senses and I swallow.
Miles continues, dropping gentle kisses on my neck. “You’re gonna get back in your pretty red dress and come downstairs with me.” He sucks my earlobe and a shiver rocks me from head to toe. “And the only one who’s gonna know what adirty, filthy slutyou’ve been…”—he pumps his fingers hard, and I moan against his palm—“… is me.”
I’m suddenly desperate to do exactly that. To share this secret with him.
Carefully, he lifts his palm away from my mouth. “Can you do that for me?” Then, as if to test me, he pulls out to deliver a quick slap to my clit.
I gasp, barely stifling a cry, and try to hum through the pleasure instead.
“Attagirl,” he praises, stroking my cheek with his free hand. He sinks his fingers back inside me and speeds up, drawing me closer and closer to unraveling.
My core tenses and my breaths catch and shudder, as if the air in my lungs is fighting to hold itself steady—my throat wrestling to contain every scream and moan I’m desperate to let out.
“That’s it,” Miles encourages, fucking me faster with his fingers as I tip over the edge. “Let go. Fall apart. Oh,fuck, you’re doing so good for me, baby.”
He crushes me in another deep, consuming kiss the moment my release slams into me. I cry into his mouth when he slips his fingers out and rubs them over my clit in fast circles, drawing me into more blissful, pulsing ecstasy.
As the tension in my body slackens, he breaks away and brings his fingers up to my lips.
