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He finally gives in and kisses me. It starts slow but builds fast as he tugs at my lips, all the while keeping me safe in his hands.
Suddenly, it’s not enough. I want more, he wants more, and our hands are all over each other. There are too many clothes between us as we race to reach skin. But he grabs my hands and ties them in one of his as he pulls away and smiles.
This smile is different; it’s full of mischief and trouble, and it’s totally sexy.
His hand dips to my ankle, and he slowly brings the tips of his fingers up my leg, skimming over my skin until he reaches the hem of my skirt. It doesn’t stop him, and I let out a little sigh as he gets closer to offering me some relief.
All the while, he watches me, studying me, and catches every little quiver or reaction to his hand.
“Are you gonna let me make you come before getting to the party?” His words are deep and husky, and they make me remember where we are: in the back of a limo.
His hand stills as I look towards the driver, but we’re shielded by a privacy screen I hadn’t noticed or cared about earlier.
“Relax. I want to play with you until you come apart. And then I’m going to walk you into my party and have the best fucking night.”
He grips my thigh, snapping my attention to him as he continues moving his fingers until he slips them under my knickers.
I shift in the seat and widen my legs as much as the dress allows, winning a devilish grin from Jeremy.
We’ve been intimate plenty of times, but I’ve never seen this side of him. It’s hot and adds to the excitement.
He teases me, playing with me until I drop my head back onto the seat and give myself over to whatever he wants to do.
“Fucking beautiful.” He pushes his finger inside of me, and I stifle a moan, wanting him to give me all the pleasure.
He works his hand, pulling in and out at a gentle, rhythmic pace that only winds me up.
My pulse quickens, I bite my lip, and I know he’s watching every second.
The familiar and addictive feeling builds in the centre of my stomach and starts to travel deep within my core until I lift my hips, encouraging more from him.
“You’re mine, Anna. Remember that. You’re mine.”
“Yes!”
His fingers twist and rub the spot that sends jolts of lightning all through my body, pulsing in time with my racing heart.
Dazed and satisfied, I open my eyes and put Jeremy back into focus.
“Don’t leave tonight. Stay. Promise me you’ll sleep in my bed.”
“I promise.” I lean my head forward against his forehead and revel in the moment.
I haven’t stayed in his house since before his birthday, but his dad’s been gone for weeks now. There’s no reason why I should be afraid, but a small tremor slithers under my skin at the thought.
The party is as I had feared, louder and more extreme than the last one.
There’s more booze and even more people — he invited the whole year as it’s the official afterparty of the dance.
They arrive just behind us and pour in, helping themselves to Jeremy’s hospitality.
I go up to his room to change into something less formal and take the opportunity to freshen up.
Before going back down, I knock on Penelope’s door. “Mrs Archer?” There’s no answer, so I check the door and twist the handle, cracking it open an inch and peering inside. It’s dark and gloomy, but I can make out the bed at the far end.
Curiosity overtakes and pushes me to take a step inside, my footsteps tentative on the plush carpet. As I travel deeper, I make out the shape of her body on the bed, lying on top of the covers.
She’s fast asleep, still dressed, and silhouettes of a bottle and a glass rest on the nightstand. It makes me sad to think this is her life, checking out of reality.
