Page 21 of Dishonored

And just like he thought, she spread her thighs, and swept her hand between her legs to move away her skirt. She pushed aside the red lace panties she wore, her pussy was already glistening with wetness, and a pretty pink that made him want a taste. When her gaze lifted to meet his head-on again, and she didn’t drop her skirt to hide from him, he was caught like a stupid fucking deer in her bright headlights.

“Do you want me to touch you right now?” he asked.

“What, like a test run?”

Caesar chuckled darkly. “Call it that if you want, but I come with one of those satisfaction guarantees.”

“There are very few men who can pull arrogance off, Caesar.”

“And I am most definitely one of them.”

She didn’t even deny it.

“Touch me.”

Caesar cocked a brow, and his fingertips skimmed her smooth thigh before edging closer to her pussy. “Ask nicely.”

Her breath caught, and then shuddered on the exhale when his knuckles grazed the silken lips of her cunt. “And just how do I do that?”

“You don’t know?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

Oh, a smart mouth.

He liked those.

They were fun to break.

Caesar let two of his fingers slide into Carina’s cunt, and marveled at how soft, wet, and fucking tight she was. The woman couldn’t even hide the way her shoulders relaxed from being filled, or the tremor that started to work its way through her thighs as he stroked her pussy once, and then twice. He could tell by the way her hips grinded against his hands that she wanted something more, but he wasn’t there yet.

“You beg,” he murmured, leaning in close enough to force her to stare at only him. His hand came up to grab her jaw tightly, and hold her in place as his fingers massaged a fleshy spot inside her upper walls that would make her so wet, she’d be a goddamn lake. “You say please. You do it repeatedly, and loudly. And then when I make you come enough times for my liking, you get on your knees, and you ask to finish me off with your mouth. That’s how you ask nicely, mia cara.”

Carina swallowed hard.

Her breaths shuddered.

“Oh, my God,” she gasped.

Yeah, Caesar could feel that telltale shake he was looking for, not to mention how tight her pussy was clamping down on his fingers. “That’s called your G-spot, and you’re going to come so hard from me playing with it that you’ll stain this couch with your juices.”

A red heat climbed up her throat and cheeks.

Shame, he thought.

Caesar liked that, too.

“Don’t even try to fight it,” he said, “just ask me nicely, Carina.”

She didn’t hesitate.

She clearly didn’t want to.

“Please; oh, my God, please. I want to come.”

“Count back from ten for me,” he said.

“W-what?”