SCARLETT "Ohhh fuckk-Ryder... I want to come," "Not yet, Scarlett. You have to learn to beg harder." Ryder's voice was low, rough, and full of dark promise as his fingers curled deep inside me, pressing against that perfect spot that made my whole body light up. He held me pinned against the sofa with one arm around my waist, keeping my hips from bucking too wildly while he teased me mercilessly—slow, shallow thrusts that built me up, then nothing, then feather-light circles around my clit just as I was about to shatter. I whimpered, head thrown back, thighs trembling around his wrist. Sweat beaded on my skin. My breath came in short, desperate gasps. "Ryder—please—I'm so close—let me come—" He pulled his fingers out completely. The sudden emptiness made me cry out—sharp, frustrated. My hips chased his hand instinctively, seeking more. He brought those slick fingers to his mouth and licked them slowly—long, deliberate strokes of his tongue—while staring straight into my eyes
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