Page 108 of Distortion
His arm comes around me in the dark. ‘Youdon’t have todo anything you don’t want to. But maybe you can have a little taste? You keep shifting around. Is that because you’re sore or because you’re a little hot and bothered?’
‘Hot and bothered?’ I breathe. Is that what they call this feeling?
‘Can I touch you?’ he asks.
I look at him in the light of the screen, but he’s watching the movie, acting like we aren’t having a conversation.
‘You are touching me,’ I say.
‘Differently.’
‘Will it hurt?’
‘Not unless you want it to.’ His lip curls into a slight smile as he pretends to be engrossed in the opening scene. ‘Which I have a feeling you might sometimes if your reaction to Shade is anything to go by ... But not right now. I’ll be very gentle while we’re in here.’
My eyes widen and fly to his. ‘In here? Now?’
He pulls me back gently with another tiny smile. ‘Yes. No one will be any the wiser so long as you keep quiet.’
‘Daisy’s cold. Grab me that blanket, pledge.’ Blake says loudly.
A couple of heads turn, but no one really seems to care what’s going on at the back of the room. A blanket is handed to him and he drapes it over me.
And then I feel his hand caress the side of my neck, just a finger softly grazing me.
Repeatedly. In the same spot.
I flinch away from the annoying tickle and give him a look of disgust.
‘Noted,’ he mutters with a laugh that he turns into a cough when some of the guys look over, and when his fingers reappear, they touch me firmly, not moving. He clasps the side of my throat just a little and keeps me still when I squirm a bit to test his grip.
My stomach does a flip when it tightens a fraction and I shiver a little beside him.
‘Cold?’ he asks with a knowing smirk.
I don’t answer, instead I try to relax into him a little more as the possessive touch sends a zing through me that I didn’t expect, and by his small sigh, he knows I like it.
We stay just like that for a minute or so, and then he moves his hand away. I think he’s finished thelittle taste, but then I feel his hand caress down my spine over my clothes. He winds it around my middle and I freeze as his fingers undo the button of my jeans. He cups my core over my pants ...underwear.
I don’t know what to do, what to think. I’m rigid next to him. I’m a little afraid of what he’s doing, but also of him stopping. I want to know what comes next. I want to know where this feeling leads.
His touch is light, his fingertip moving up and down my slit. I shift under his hand and he draws me even closer to him, his other hand moving my leg under the blanket so that I’m more open for him.
‘Good girl,’ he breathes when I let him.
I gasp at what those words do, the same as when Mav said them before. My thoughts stutter to a halt and all I can feel, all that seems to matter is what his fingers are doing. I clench my jaw when he moves my underwear aside and delves beneath the fabric.
At that moment, Mav reaches over and takes my drink from my hand, his arm settling over my legs under the blanket as he leans forwardalmostas if he’s holding me in place for Blake.
But he couldn’t know what’s going on under the cover, could he?
Blake lets out a small sound that I think means he likes what he finds, and then his fingers are gently probing, feelingme. I forget about Mav for now as they play at my entrance, and, almost feverishly, Ineedhim to put them inside me. I feel empty. But when I shift upwards, trying to tell him what I want, he misunderstands and his touch moves higher.
I let out a huff and glance up at his face. He’s still not looking at me, but I see his lips twitch.
His touch moves to the apex of my thighs and his fingers begin a slow circular movement, a pattern I can’t quite discern. My breathing has gotten faster. And I make an effort to slow it even as the sensations he’s eliciting are making my heart beat rapidly in my chest. Something is building, a tension, a coiling. My lower muscles are contracting, straining for something. I’m lost to it. All I want is for this feeling to reach its crescendo.
I swallow hard, trying to keep my eyes on the movie, and averyunwelcome thought jumps into my half-addled mind. What if this is a trick? What if he waits until the last possible moment and rips off the blanket, showing everyone what he’s doing, what I’mlettinghim do. They’ll laugh and make remarks; they’ll poke fun and it will be so far past embarrassing. I won’t be able to show my face in the house. Letting them trick me into drinking too much was one thing, but this ...
