“Fuck, yes. It’s time to make you say it,” he says, sounding gleeful.
Anticipation causes the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. I bite down on my bottom lip, curious as he makes me wait, listening attentively through the tense silence. Finally, the mattress lowers from the weight of his body as he presses his knees on either side of my legs. I swallow the hint of my fear as his hands graze over the sides of my waist. He grips the waistband of my pants and drags it down to my knees taking my panties with it. Cold air hits my skin and licks me in intimate places. I fight the urge to squirm beneath his heated gaze. He can see everything, including my obvious arousal.
He parts my legs wide, hovering a violet wand a couple of feet from my head for me to see. I want to scream. I want to frantically resist the electric jolt he threatens to deliver on my sensitive flesh. And I also want to feel the sting of pain. God, how I want it, but it seems like Tate is all threat and no follow-through tonight. I open my mouth to beg him to please just do what we always do. I need our routine, but as I turn and meet his eyes, I know that won’t happen. It’s right there on his face. He has no plans to get into our usual play, and he probably won’t until this Jett scare is over. I’m mildly annoyed that he’s playing it safe. He’s soft and tame, using the threat of everything we’re used to doing without actually doing it.
I’m beside myself with need, slick and longing for him, my skin blazing with heat and desire, my whole body awake and alive.
“Please,” I beg as he moves the wand away without using it.
“You’ll open your mouth for that, but not to tell me what I told you to say?” Tate tugs on the cord of the wand, nudging the prongs out of the electrical socket. He trails the powerless device along my skin, and I moan. There’s no pain, but I’m so desperate for his touch that my senses are heightened all over me. He uses the wand to circle the handprint on my right ass cheek from his spanking. I lower my torso to the bed and tilt my hips, raising my ass higher for more of his touch.
“Say it,” he demands. “Say it if you want me to bury my cock into your tight, wet pussy and take you the way you like it. Or not. Your choice.”
I whimper a sound, but I don’t say what he wants to hear. I shouldn’t resist. But it’s what we do. As I lie there with the comforter rubbing my sensitive nipples through my bra, I know I’m extending the inevitable, making every second total agony. There’s also the chance that he’ll stop altogether if we run out of time. I just can’t say it yet.
His fingers slide along my lower back, drawing me away from my thoughts as they glide along my waistline. As they pass the hem at my stomach, he pulls me ass back. I feel his free, full, thick cock at my upper thigh. Tate lifts my tank top past my breasts, unhooks my bra, and cups each beast with rough hands that make my nipples harden to pebbles.
He grinds his cock into my ass cheeks, trailing the tip along my seam in a slow, teasing motion, showing me what I wish he was doing deep inside me. I’m losing my mind, whimpering and writhing on the bed beneath him. The words are on my lips. I just can’t form the sound to get them out.
Tate snatches a handful of my hair. “Tell me what I want to hear, or this goes away,” he taunts me, his hot breath tickling my neck. “Just. Two. Little. Words.”
My body bows and bucks beneath him, silently screaming out for an orgasm. He teases one nipple, twisting it as his cock dips between my inner thighs, testing my resolve without giving me what I want. The sharp sting of almost-but-not-really-there contact takes me close to the edge. Close, but not close enough.
“Please,” I whisper through the ache.
Tate jerks my head back slightly, still holding a thick handful of my hair in his fist. “That sounds like strike two.”
I’m so close. One thrust of his cock into me will probably send me over the edge. Which the bastard knows already. Tate releases my hair and slaps my ass cheek again—harder than the last time. And again. And again. I’m beside myself and no longer know up from down. My need flares from the sweet, painful heat that has me gasping for air and so fucking close.