“This is where I teach you about listening to me.”
“Listening to what?”
He drags his finger over my body again, up to my breasts, where he draws tight circles, and then back to my stomach. “This body, when it’s naked, belongs to me. Do you agree?”
I bite my lower lip and nod. He owns me. That’s undeniable, especially in this moment.
“And when you’re naked, not only do I own your body, but I tell it when it can come, and you’re not allowed to come yet.”
“Why not?”
He rolls my nipple between his fingers. “I suggest you don’t question me, unless you want to lie here all night, being teased with no relief.”
My lips seal shut because I believe he would do that.
I believe he would let the only pleasure I receive be from the wind gently lapping against my arousal.
“Sorry,” I say.
His lips land on my cheek, just in front of my ear. “It’s okay, baby. You’re learning. Tell me, how are you feeling?”
“Frustrated.”
“Perfect.” He drags his hand back down my stomach and once again slips two fingers against my clit. I sigh into his touch and relax against his chest as he holds me in place. “Now, back to the pool. I tug you off my cock, because I’m not ready to come, not until I own your pussy. How would you want me to take you?”
His fingers cause me to climb again, and it happens faster than before. My mind is fixated on what he’s doing with his fingers as his other hand moves up to my breasts. He circles my nipples, teasing me, taunting me, driving my desire for him higher and higher.
“Yes,” I moan. “Right there.”
He snaps his hand away and grips my chin, forcing me to look at him as he leans over my shoulder. “I asked you a question, Kelsey.”
My mind reels.
My heart hammers.
My legs go completely numb.
“I’m . . . I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening.”
He smirks and rests a gentle kiss on my lips. “At least you’re honest.” And then he slips his fingers into my mouth. I taste myself, and I have no idea what comes over me, but I suck on his index finger, and the most satisfied look crosses his face.
“Fuck, baby.” He starts fingering me again, and this time, his pace is faster. “Now, answer me, how would you want me to fuck you in the pool?”
His fingers fly over my clit, massaging, applying the perfect pressure, driving me wild with need. Breathlessly, I answer, “From behind.”
“Behind?” He removes his hand, and I squeeze my eyes shut so tightly that I almost feel tears spring forth. “You like it from behind?” I nod. He tweaks my nipple and my chest flies against his hand as my head whips to the side on a groan.
“I do,” I answer. “I love it from behind.”
“What else do you like? Do you like how I’m edging you? Bringing you so close to your orgasm and then taking it away?”
I shake my head. “No. I want relief.”
“But, baby, we’re taking it slow. This is slow.”
“This is blissful torture.”
He rolls my nipple a few more times before releasing my breast. Once again, he removes any touch and lets me lie there, trapped in his embrace. Like a feather, he slowly and lightly runs his coarse beard over my neck, across my cheek, and back down again, his breath tickling me right before he presses the faintest of kisses to my shoulder.
“How do you want to come?”
“I don’t care,” I say. “Just let me.”
Fingers stroke down my inner thigh and then up to my entrance. I tilt my pelvis up as best as I can, and he slips two fingers inside of me.
“I wish that was your cock,” I say.
“Me too, but I’m honoring what you want. I’m just having fun touching you.” He moves his fingers in and out, but it isn’t enough, it’s not even close to enough, and he knows it as I writhe under his touch.
“Please tell me you’ll let me come. Please, JP.”
“One thing you need to know, Kelsey”—he kisses my cheek—“is that I’ll always let you come. If you trust me with your body, you’ll always come.” Then he presses his thumb to my clit.
“Yes,” I cry out. “Please, please don’t pull away.”
The buildup.
The pressure.
The numbness in my body since he started this is fluctuating in waves. Consuming me, then fading, consuming me more, then fading less, and now consuming me so much that I’m so close, so freaking close . . .