¬ Fashire
She was infuriating.
So infuriating.
I did not understand what sort of tomfoolery had pushed me to get on my knees before her, but it would never happen again!
My fingers pressed harder against her swollen nub, and the sharp cry that tore from her throat was infinitely more satisfying than any of the venom she had been spitting at me.
This was it.
For all her fire, look at her now. Squirming against me like a bitch in heat.
I ground my thumb against her clit in a slow, punishing circle, and her whole body jerked. Her fingers fisted tighter in my shirt, and a muffled whimper spilled from her lips.
Don't tell me she was trying to control herself?
I should stop. I should step back and let her stew in her own arousal, let her suffer the way she had made me suffer when she called me—
Dog.
The word sliced through me again, and my jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached.
No. I wasn't done with her yet.
