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I thought he would strip my leggings off. Instead, he slid his hand inside, his digits sneaking past my knickers like a thief in the night.
He kneed my legs apart and stroked over my sensitive folds. I groaned, arching up into his touch. I was so wet, so ready for him.
He went back to sucking on my nipples and my hands threaded into his thick dark locks, fisting them tight as he continued to stroke me. I couldn't believe how good he felt.
I felt like a live wire, and I needed him to touch me, to feel him inside me, to hear the sounds I would make.
"Please," I whispered, my hips lifting up to meet his hand. He stroked me again, circling my clit, but the friction wasn't enough. But he kept teasing me until I whimpered.
"Please," I begged.
"Please what?" he asked, his tone rough.
I groaned and arched up into his hand, and he gave me one more stroke before he stopped.
I whimpered, my body imploring his hand to continue.
"Please what, Daphne?" he asked, his voice low and raw.
My humiliation made me want to hide, to cower, but I spoke the words. "Please let me come."
"My pleasure." The thrumming strokes became more insistent as he tugged on one of my nipples with his teeth.
With a few for rough strokes, that coiled spring inside me finally snapped, making me come apart under his steady fingers.
His face was so close, his eyes blazing with lust, heat and possessiveness as he watched me.
I came so hard my vision went white with stars behind my eyes.
He didn't let up, his fingers continuing to thrum over my clit. The beginnings of another climax rose up within me, and I arched up into his hand. This time, he leaned in capturing my lips with his, swallowing the cry I couldn't hold back.
With a grunt, he adjusted his wrist so that he slid two thick, blunt fingers inside my pussy and his thumb took up the job of clit whisperer.
“Fucking hell, you’ve drenched my hand, kitten. Be a bad girl and leave me a wet spot I’ll need to sleep in tonight. Come for me again.”
His words, his thumb, the carnal forbidden pleasure. That second release was more powerful as I convulsed, trying to escape the sensations. But he planted his other hand on my lower abdomen, drawing out the wave of pleasure.
I was panting, my body limp. Still he stroked, more lazily now, as if he planned to keep me hovering here in a state of bliss. All the while his erection kicked insistently against my leg.
When I dropped my head back and my spent body splayed before him, Drake kissed up my body, landing back at my lips as his cock nudged at my cleft. My hips, treacherous traitors that they were rose to meet the occasion.
I'd spent months barely interested in sex, but one night with my kidnapper, and I couldn't get enough?
While I frantically tried to yank off his shirt, I heard something from the hallway.
"Drake? Are you up there?"
Reginald.
"Fucking hell," Drake muttered. His hips seemed to give an involuntary roll towards me before pushing he pushed off the bed and away from me.
While we stared at each other like a couple of caught teenagers, he grabbed my discarded T-shirt for me and tugged it back over my head.
Not before his gaze drifted back to my breasts though. When I was dressed, he nodded. "Am I carrying you back or are you walking?"
I stared at him. After what we'd just done, what the hell was the protocol? I’d come hard. Twice I might add. I had no leg to stand on by trying to pretend that hadn’t been me. "I'll walk."
Back in my room, Drake stalked toward me. I blinked rapidly falling back on the bed, not sure of what was happening.
