Page 156 of In Somnis

“Please. I want you so badly.”

Fuck.

I can’t think about what she just said.

Because she’s fully here now, eyes locked on mine, choosing this, choosing me, and my brain keeps snagging on that.

She’s choosing me.

She clenches every time I push home, and it makes my cock throb painfully. I’m running out of arguments with myself. Every reason I had for keeping this contained feels thinner than it did five minutes ago, worn through by the sounds she’s making and the look in her eyes—like I’m exactly what she was reaching for all along.

God, just thinking about replacing this stupid stick with my dick, sinking into that sweet heat, feeling her stretch and flutter around me instead, hearing her say my name like she just did, but wrecked, properly wrecked.

I want her so badly it’s rewriting my priorities in real time.

That should terrify me.

But somehow, it doesn’t.

Precum leaks steadily now, soaking through my boxers. She chose. Me. Not the stamina champ standing there like furniture. Me.

But I’m not done.

“Nuh-uh. You don’t get the real thing yet.”

I bring the candy back to my mouth, suck it clean again, her taste flooding my tongue, sour, sweet, and mine, then I press it straight to her clit. Her thighs start shaking, and I can’t stop myself. I slide one finger inside her wet heat, and my name on her lips drowns out my groan.

“Ridge.”

It takes all my concentration to keep a slow, even pace, sliding my finger in and out, while I increase the pressure of the lollipop against her clit, then pull back and repeat the rhythmic pulse. Watching as my finger disappears inside her has me on the edge and questioning how I let it get this far, but then she moans, and I realize it doesn’t matter. Only she does.

Every panting breath of hers is close enough it’s as if I can taste the lemon and salt on her lips.

“Mm. You were so desperate a minute ago, couldn’t even find me. Now look at you.” I pull it back slowly, agonizingly, then push it home again. “Practically perfect when you’re not thinking, aren’t you?”

She whimpers.

“Was that a complaint?”

“No!” She grabs the counter harder. “Don’t stop, don’t⁠—”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” I pull it out and circle her clit again, and she writhes. “You’re so responsive. You know that? Every single thing I do, and you just…” I push back inside, and she arches, and I lose my train of thought entirely. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

Her hand finds my wrist, not stopping me, just holding on.

And God do I let her.

“More,” she breathes out. “Please, I need to finish.”

“Finish?” I keep the pace exactly where it is, unhurried, even as she tries to roll her hips and rush it. I stop playing with her clit and pop the candy back in my mouth, savoring her taste, then use my free hand to press flat against her stomach, pinning her lightly to the counter. “Greedy. I just got here.”

I’m so hard it hurts, and the only thing keeping me from coming in my jeans is sheer stubbornness.

She makes a sound that’s a half-moan, half-frustrated whine, and something about it pulls at every single thing in me.

“Please.”

“There it is.” I let the lollipop disappear between one breath and the next, then lean down and let my mouth brush the curve of her breast, not quite a kiss. “Say it again.”