I dug my shoe into her thigh until she gasped. Her eyes found mine, lips parting. Wet. My eyes fell to them, to the way her spoiled, pouty pink lips parted, her tongue begging to lick them.
Was she enjoying this?
I shifted, and when I spoke, my voice was hoarser. “You want me to let you go? Just say the words. Admit the truth and I will.”
She didn’t speak, but her breath was like the wings of the swans outside, and she was wearing the most painfully see-through white lace panties.
Fucking white.
Fuck. I was hooked on that.
“Say it,” I pressed.
My heel would leave bruises on her thigh.
“Just say it,” I growled.
Fuck.
I was losing myself. I used to torture myself over what Abigail Crowne sounded like as she came. Turns out, it was nothing like my imagination. My imagination was a scratchy recording compared to this. She was a live symphony.
And she wasn’t even coming; this was just the fucking prelude.
She gripped the ropy netting behind her for dear life.
“Do you still want me to let you go?”
A heartbeat passed like an eternity, and then she whispered, “No.”
I took my heel off her thigh, kicked apart both of them until she was obscenely spread and I could bend down between them. Moonlight made her eyes bolder, rawer.
“Maybe I shouldn’t.” I caressed my knuckle along her jaw. “Maybe I should rip off those panties and finally find the truth of you, see how wet and wanting you fucking are.”
In that moment, I almost did.
I almost kept going. Nearly slid my hand inside her thigh, up to those torturously tempting white panties, inside to what I’d been dreaming of since the day she’d picked me up on that fucking beach. Would she be hot, as wet as I’d imagined? Would she moan when I slid inside her? No… Abigail Crowne would be a meteor shower.
Qui
et, magical, over too fast.
I untangled myself from her, standing up slowly. I didn’t bother adjusting myself. Abigail’s stare focused on my jeans, before she tilted her chin.
Her wide, violet-brown eyes were still hazy. I was always thankful for being sent to California; at least I didn’t have to see Abigail every time I looked out the window. The night sky there didn’t glow the same dark-red indigo. Back here… I can’t say the same.
I dragged my thumb across her still-parted bottom lip. “Told you it would feel good.”
Shock and recognition hit her at once, and she tore her face from mine.
“Can we go?” Her voice shook.
“Sure. Threat’s been gone for a while now.”
I couldn’t see her face; she’d hidden it in shadows. When she didn’t respond, I bent down until we were eye to eye.
“Are those tears?” I reached out to thumb them.
She slapped me away. “Leave me alone.”