With my palm on her chest, I guided her to lie down onto the counter, moving her how I wanted and not being particularly gentle about it, either. But she went willingly, eyes widening in recognition of the game we were playing, mouth soft and open. She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at me, waiting to see what I’d do next.

The gauzy material of her skirt felt like nothing in my hands as I slid it up her hips, exposing miles of leg and a different pair of satin panties beneath. I let my fingers press into her skin, wanting to hold her down and mark her up, hear her beg for what she wanted.

“I’m going to f**k you with my mouth,” I said, kneeling between her thighs and ghosting my lips over the thin material. “Fuck you with my tongue until you’re begging for my cock. Maybe I’ll give it to you.” I shrugged. “Maybe I won’t.”

She sucked in a short breath and reached for my hair, trying to pull me forward. “Don’t tease, Bennett,” she said.

I pushed her hands away, laughing as I looked up at her. “You don’t get to make any of the decisions tonight, Chloe. Not after your bullshit game in the club.” I breathed again where her legs parted, flicking my tongue over her clit until the fabric of her panties was thick with wetness. “You kissed me, let me taste your tits, came on my hand, and then left me there. Hard. That wasn’t very nice.”

“I . . . what?” she said, eyes unfocused as she watched me, a flush of color moving up her neck.

Leaning forward again, I pinned her hips to the counter, kissing and nipping at her through the thin satin until it was soaked. Her head fell back and she moaned, whispering my name into the silent room.

“Louder,” I said against her. “Let me hear you.”

“Take them off. Suck on me.”

The neediness in her voice sent a jolt of electricity through my body and I wrapped the thin straps in my hand and viciously ripped them, wanting them down and gone and nothing between her and my mouth.

She cried out, arching against me at the first touch of my tongue to her skin, her fingers digging into my hair and her voice ringing all around us.

The space was awkward but it didn’t matter, and was more than made up for when I looked to the side to find her watching our reflection in the mirror, teeth biting into her bottom lip. I met her eyes as I tasted her, sliding my tongue across and inside.

I added a finger, then two, and watched as they moved in her, wet with how much she wanted me. Her voice was nothing more than a breathy whisper and my name over and over as she asked for more and opened her legs wider, the heel of her sexy shoe scraping along the countertop. I could feel the heat of her all around me, the way she started to tremble as she got closer.

“Good?” I asked, making sure my voice vibrated against her.

She nodded, breathless, moving her hands above her head to push into her hair. “So good. Oh f**k, Bennett, so close.”

God it was torture, wanting to watch her lose control, but wanting to feel it, too, needing to feel her.

I tried to hide my desperation as I fit my hands to her hips and all but threw her to the bench, hovering above her to lick a line from her navel to the scrap of lace she called a bra. Sitting up, I unbuttoned the top of my shirt, reached blindly for my belt, and undid my pants. I freed my c**k and almost gasped as she swatted my hand away and took me in her palm.

“No,” I said, flipping her over to her knees and stepping behind her. “You had your time to play earlier. This is mine.” I lifted her ass into the air, slapping it hard.

She gasped, turning around to look at me.

I gave her a dark smile, running my hand over her skin, soothing. “Do you want me to stop?”

Her eyes narrowed into a glare.

“You are welcome to stop me anytime,” I murmured. “I’m sure this is absolute torture for you.”

I brushed the tip of my c**k through her wetness and down to her clit, circling, teasing.

“You’re an ass**le,” she managed finally, and I brought my hand against her ass again, harder. But this time instead of surprise, she moaned, hoarse and hungry.

Then that was all there was: Chloe and the sounds she made, the way she asked me to push inside, to f**k her. And when I did, and smacked her ass again, she pleaded for harder and more.

But even when I took what I wanted it wasn’t enough; it never would be. I could feel the weight of it somewhere deep in my stomach—the absolute love I felt for her, the constant need to touch and feel and take, to mark her from the inside out.

I twisted my fingers in the material of her shirt, pulled it lower so I could see her br**sts move as I f**ked her. Her hair fell across her back and I ran my hands under it, feeling the cool strands against my skin. I watched as I slid in and out of her, the way she pushed back against me, her skirt bunched up over her pink ass and around her hips.