He slid into me again—slow enough to make me want to scream, smooth enough to make my toes curl. I forced myself to hold my moans, to keep my expression blank, to keep my eyes wide open and locked on his. I refused to let him see how close I already was to falling apart.
He moved torturously, rhythm steady, unhurried.
I tried.
Oh, I truly tried.
But a moan slipped out—soft, needy, humiliating.
That wicked, sinful smile spread over his face.
And he pulled out again.
"God, no… Richard… no."
I sounded ruined. Even I heard it.
"You know what you have to do, Sweetie."
I bit down hard on my lip when his mouth found my breast, sucking with hungry need. His hand slid down between my legs—his fingers replacing where he had been seconds before. "You are one stubborn-ass woman," he murmured against my skin. "I am going to enjoy toying with you."
