Slowly, he drags his fingers up my thigh, touching every part of my body except the one place burning for his touch, aching and pulsing with a need I’d never known. His touch is soft but nervous, like he doesn’t know where to place his hands next. I shift in an effort to send him where I crave his touch the most.
“Ssshhhh,” a deep voice whispers into my neck, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end and my stomach to flip flop with anticipation. “Is this where you need me to touch you?”
His hand comes to rest on my breast, rolling my already sensitive nipple between his fingers. I arch my back and groan from deep within my throat.
“No,” I say. It comes out as barely a breath. I need him lower. Much lower.
He releases my nipple and a soft hand cups my breast and squeezes lightly. “Is this where you need me?” the voice asks, teasing me with his words as well as his touch.
“No,” I moan again, the agonizing torture of waiting for him to make contact is too much to bear.
I kick out my legs impatiently.
“Ssssshhhhh. Behave, and you’ll get what you want,” the voice whispers, trailing his tongue down the side of my neck at the same time working his hands between my legs. Slowly, two fingers brush over my clit, lingering there without any movement. An almost touch.
His body stills.
I writhe beneath him, seeking the release he is denying me. “Please,” I beg.
No answer.
“Please,” I say again.
Still no answer.
I look up into the eyes that held the promise of pleasure just a moment before, but they are slowly fading away. I reach for him, but I grasp only the night air. Even though I can still feel the places where he touched me as if he’d burned my skin, I can no longer feel him on me.
Then, he is gone altogether, and I am left alone in the dark.
Before I can panic, what I’d felt on top of me is now behind me, but the feeling isn’t quite the same. The person isn’t the same. This body is warmer, harder, and much, much larger. The hand rubbing my thigh isn’t soft and gentle; it’s rough and callused. The erection prodding against my lower back is thick and long, rubbing against the slit in my ass, into my wet folds and back again.
“Please,” I beg. Release. There must be some sort of release at the end of all this. I craved it, needed it, and I knew he could give it to me.
These new fingers don’t linger, and I almost fall apart when they find the wetness between my legs, spreading it over my clit until I am writhing against the thickness behind me, begging for it with my body, needing to be filled with it until the pure pleasure of it all splits me in two.
Two fingers penetrated me.
My eyes flew open. It was then that I realized I was no longer dreaming. I lay on my side, facing the wall. In a bed.
In King’s bed.
WITH KING.
It was his fingers filling me, stretching me. He curled them inside me, and they brushed against a spot that caused me to buck up against him and arch my back. I gasped and tried to tear away when King tucked me under his forearm, wrapping it tightly across my chest, holding me against him.
“I’ve got you, Pup,” he growled, his breath teasing a spot behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
I knew I should argue, or at the very least push him away, but I couldn’t think. Right or wrong and good or bad escaped me because his fingers started pumping while the pad of his thumb circled my clit, faster and faster until I was panting into the pillow, throwing myself back against his hard body, chasing the release that I craved more than my next breath.
“I’ve got you,” King said again. His voice was strained and thick. I lost myself in a fog of sensation.
“What are you—” I started to ask, but I couldn’t form the words because my body clamped down on King’s fingers, causing me to gasp.
“I’m going to make you come, Pup. I’m going to make you come real hard,” he promised. When it felt like I was reaching the edge, King held me tighter and pressed down on my clit. I hung on, afraid to fall from the heights he’d brought me to.
“It’s okay, baby. I want to make you feel good. Don’t be afraid to come for me.”
With one final stroke of his fingers, I saw stars. Then, I plummeted, crashing down in the most amazing free-fall I never knew existed, off of a place that I never wanted to leave. Screaming into the pillow, fisting it into my hands, my orgasm tore through me from my chest to my toes and back again. My core continued to pulse around King’s fingers as I fluttered back down to earth.