Teasing Hands
“To take and break what I so willingly gave. Camden eyed me with undisguised hunger while his fingers trailed up my leg.
“Camden, please.” Goose bumps arose on my skin and a small whimper escaped my lips. My hips rose off the small table and undulated—seeking out his fingers.
“Don’t fucking move.” His hands spread out and his fingers dug into my fevered flesh. “We are doing this my way. Do you understand me, gatita? My fucking way.”
“Anything you want, baby. Just let me taste you.” The neediness in my tone caused a loud growl to ripple from his chest. His fingers—the ones holding my thighs tightly in his grasp—pulled me down to the edge of the table, and spun me around. Camden then angled the bed a bit, pulling a lever beneath the table and lowering my head.
I now lay right below the bulge in his pants.
I could smell him. The white linen pants he wore hid nothing and I took advantage of it.
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