Chapter Thirteen

He still has an arm around me. The other hand skims down mine to my wrist and he gently raises my hand from the apex of my legs. His head is bent, his chin nearly resting on my shoulder. He crosses my arm over my chest, lifting it up toward his mouth. He glides my cream-coated fingers over his lips, flicks his tongue along the bottom one and lets out a primal groan.

More sparks fly. I could literally die a thousand deaths with every sexy movement, every sensuous sound, every second of anticipation that holds me in suspense.

He lowers my hand to skim over one breast, my fingertips grazing a still-taut nipple, as he whispers, “I like that you’re comfortable pleasuring yourself in front of me.”

“I’m not exactly in front of you,” I quietly remind him.

He chuckles. Low and deep. So rich and intimate.

The resonance echoes enticingly in my pussy and my inner muscles contract once again. This time, there’s nothing filling the void and that makes me restless.

I’m tempted to wiggle in his embra