Page 66 of The Match Faker
She spits again. “A romantic night swim,” she says. “Keep going. Tell me what happens after you stop me before you come.”
Suddenly, a wave of embarrassment hits me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt as vulnerable as I do now, revealing this little moment of fantasy to her, but she’s going out of her comfort zone for me. The least I can do is return the favor.
“I pull down your top.” I move my hips with her, searching for just a little more friction, more pressure.
In response, she squeezes harder.
I close my eyes in relief, lean back on my hands. “I drip massage oil over your chest, cover your nipples, your breasts, until you’re slippery and shining.”
Jasmine moans, the softest sound. Her hips move, a choppy rhythm. Like she wants that, my hands on her tits, covering her in oil until she’s slick. Oh fuck. She’s going to get my come on her dress.
“Then you.” I huff. “Yasmin, let’s me fuck her tits.”
She groans. “Would you come like that?”
“I’d come so hard for you, baby.” I’m going to come so hard for her right now.
She leans closer.
“Careful,” I say. “Your dress.”
Closer still, she ghosts her lips over mine, across my cheek, my chin. “Where would you come?”
Her mouth goes from soft to hard, substituting lips and tongue for teeth. She bites along my throat, my collarbone. Scratches across my thighs with her other hand, my stomach. I wrap my fingers around her throat, loosely. Her hand moves faster. She swallows, the sensation illicit against my palm.
“Here,” I say. “I’d come here.”
Pleasure pools heavy in my back, my balls. A cord pulled tight.
She snatches her hand away. Instead of snapping the cord, she leans away from me, leaving me cold. The pleasure coiled inside me comes loose, unravels.
I gasp. “Fuck.”
Laughter, shouts from the party, drifts over to us and Jasmine tenses. The haze of our little game gone, snapping us both back to reality. Jasmine stands, pulling herself together again like she always does. I can’t stop gasping, can’t stop staring at my dick, hard and leaking.
She studies the mess she made of me, her mouth tipped in a satisfied smile. “Now, we’re even.”
16
JASMINE
“Are you fucking serious?” He breathes the words across the back of my neck. That, plus the blast of cold air from the open mudroom door, sends goose bumps along my spine. The door slams and I startle, but none of the partygoers notice over the din of celebration.
“Maybe we should mingle.” I’m filled with anxious energy.
“Not a fucking chance.” He holds me by my hips, pressing into my back. He is still hard.
I thought he’d finish himself off back beside the pool, but I can’t deny the thrill that snakes up my spine knowing he didn’t.
“How exactly does orgasm denial make us even?” he asks, his stubble rough against the shell of my ear as he crowds in closer. “You came.” The strain in his voice makes me wish he’d bite me. A thought I’ve never once entertained before. I want to feel the imprint of his teeth on the base of my neck, draw my fingers across the spot later and feel the indentations.
I shrug, feigning indifference. “Consider it a tax.”
It wasn’t until he was laid out beneath me, his lower lip caught between his teeth, the flush in his cheeks visible even in the dark, that I decided to do it.
Or not do it, as it were.
It’s hard to think of it as a punishment for him, more like a reward for me. Because I didn’t want it to end and that’s what letting him come felt like.