Page 73 of The Draft

“Dash,” I husked out, trying to get some air, but he was being less than helpful with that. “We can’t do anything. Not in here.”

“You sure about that?” he challenged, his hand now caressing my breast. I was melting in his arms, and I hated how much control he had over me. I also hated how much he knew it. “Because we’ve done worse.”

I lost my breath when his hand moved from my chest back down to my waist, and then I squeaked a little when he unbuttoned my jeans. Kissing me, he made my body feel like jelly, molding into whatever he wanted me to be. Before I could protest—not that I would—he pushed his palm down the front of my jeans, heading straight for my panties.

I gasped when his thick, warm fingers touched the top of my mound because it felt so good. Dash didn’t respond to that, he just used two of his fingers to play with my clit round and round, over and over. He knew how to get me off with such little effort; it was getting annoying.

Laughing into our kiss, he said, “You’re already so wet for me, babe. Youcan’t deny that you’re mine now.”

I winced because I hated how obvious it was that I was desperately in love with him, so I decided to tease him a little. “How can you be so sure it’s you I’m wet for?”

His fingers stopped moving, and he pulled away, cutting a look at me.

I licked my lips, making sure I didn’t waste an ounce of his taste, and said, “I was just in the stands hanging out with a few football guys, after all. Who knows, maybe we had a ménage à trois planned after this.”

Straight-faced, Dash didn’t move. He was just glaring at me, wondering how far I would take this.

So, I kept going. “Let’s not forget that Henry was looking for a second chance too.” His eye twitched. “Maybe I could bring him in on the action.”

Still not moving, Dash stared at me for a little longer than what would seem normal when you took into account that his fingers were on my clit. He pushed them down, sending a thrill straight to the back of my spine before moving his hand off me. I stopped the moan emanating from the back of my throat because I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I yearned for his touch.

I waited for him to pull his hand out of my jeans and give me the inevitable lecture about how we couldn’t be together. Only that didn’t happen. What happened was even more shocking. He dipped his hand further into my pants and pushed two fingers inside me with ease. My fingers clawed at his arms because I was worried I might lose my balance. He didn’t stop at my yelp or the fact that my feet were nearly tipping off the floor because he was pushing me up. He didn’t need to. He was making his point loud and clear. My hips were bucking wildly, and if he kept up the pace, I was going to come just from his fingers being inside me. My body couldn’t help but react to Dash.

As I was just about to moan out his name, he took his hand away, leaving me wrecked. I opened my eyes lazily, confused over what just happened. Raising his hand between us, he shoved the two fingers that were inside me into my mouth, causing me to taste my own arousal.

“Lick them clean,” he commanded.

So I did.

Using my tongue, I stared at Dash while I licked every last crevice of hisfingers until I couldn’t taste myself anymore. Swirling his fingers around, he pushed them down the back of my throat before pulling them out entirely and giving me a wicked grin. “Just remember, it’s me that makes you taste like that.”

I was speechless. Was this Dash? The same Dash who was usually quiet and brooding. Ugh. Why did I like this confident and commanding side of him?

Then he stepped back, gesturing for me to leave. He couldn’t be serious, could he? My jeans were still unbuttoned, and my panties were soaked, and he was going to leave me like this.

My chest heaved, my clothes were rumpled, and all I could think about was how I was going to have to get myself off against the hockey equipment if Dash didn’t come back over here and finish the job himself.

“Dash.” My word was short, drawn out, and barely audible because I was disappointed. I was so close to coming, and now it was all wasted. The euphoria building was for nothing because he took it away.

“What do you want, Madison?”

I hated the way he was talking to me in what felt like riddles. My brain was too fuzzy, and I couldn’t concentrate.

“To finish what you started,” I challenged, knowing Dash couldn’t back down from it.

He stalked toward me, encasing me in again, and kissing me even harder than before. Without hesitation, his hand went straight into my panties, and I was almost embarrassed at how easy it was for him to slip his fingers inside me. Thankfully, I was too aroused to think straight.

His thumb swiped across my clit in the little space he had as he moved down and kissed my neck. I closed my eyes and leaned onto the shelves for balance while he used his fingers to get me off.

“Does that feel good?” he asked. I didn’t immediately answer, too caught up in a mountain of pleasure to care.

“Yes.” He kissed the answer off my lips and pushed my jeans down to the middle of my thighs. Then he dropped to his knees.

A shock of pleasure ran up my spine when Dash looked up at me, grinning. He wasn’t about to go down on me, was he?

His face was in line with my pussy, and when he kissed the top of mymound, I shivered, unable to move much because my jeans were holding me in a viselike grip. He knew what he was doing. “Tell me, Madison. Has anyone ever tasted you before?”

He was taunting me. A tit for tat, but for some messed up reason, I liked it. I liked that he was getting so riled up in his own thoughts about what I’d potentially done with other guys because, in a fucked-up way, it showed me how much I meant to him and that this attraction wasn’t just in my head.