“Tell me what it feels like when you push your pussy lips together and roll them between your fingers.”
I obliged. Thrills shot through my body. I did it again, and something deep in my belly clenched. Mike put his arm on the enamel behind my head, and I leaned back on it, my head cushioned by him.
“Keep doing that. Next, I want you to circle that little ring of muscle that’s feeling all tight now. Don’t push inside. Tease it. Tease it just like my tongue did. Do you remember?”
I sure fucking did. The way he’d held me open and feasted as his thick fingers pushed into my opening—that was all I’d been able to think about since.
I realized that was the whole point. Clever Mike. Really, it was a surprise to hear him say he never finished high school. He was such an intelligent man—flunking probably had nothing to do with his grades and everything to do with his proclivity for punching teachers, the reckless little white knight. What was the name of the guidance counselor he said he’d punched? Something that made me think of Tom Hanks?—?
“Lyssa,” Mike growled.
My lids flew open. His eyes were dark now, his expression unusually foreboding. Gone was the good-time guy who laughed his way through life.
He wasn’t laughing now. He was sizing me up.
“It feels too intense,” I whispered, my voice small.
“I know. Do you trust me?”
Last month, I would have said there wasn’t a man on this fucking Earth I trusted. Paul had ruined my life, my stepfather was preoccupied with his midlife crisis, and Chase had stolen my best friend.
But Mike?
I didn’t have to think very hard about that.
“Yes.”
“Pinch my arm if you want me to stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Circle your clit as fast as you can. Now, Lyssa. Hurry.”
“Mike, stop what?”
He grabbed my hand and pushed it back toward the vee of my legs. Even though it would push water over the lip of the bath, I did as he said, moving my fingers as fast as I could, whimpering at the powerful sensation.
I didn’t notice Mike adjusting his stance beside the tub, nor would I have worked out what was coming if I did. When he placed his hand over my clavicle, I welcomed the contact and the grounding weight but wished his hand was a few inches lower, over my breasts. I arched into his touch.
“Big breath, Princess.”
I was doing that anyway. The advice was completely superfluous.
Then he pushed me underwater.
CHAPTER 15
MIKE
Every sexual encounter in my life had been preparation for this moment, and I was now glad for it. Because when Lyssa Luxe was naked in my tub and upset because she couldn’t get off, I knew what to do.
I thanked the stars for my slutty past as I counted three Mississippis.
Unsurprisingly, once Lyssa was underwater, she didn’t keep fingering her clit. Her hands clutched at the side of the tub and at my wrist, splashing water all over me and the floor.
But she didn’t pinch.
On three, I let her up.
