Danielle POV
He doesn’t touch me properly. Not yet. Instead, he shifts his weight, making sure I feel every inch of him moving behind me, around me. He takes his time. He knows what waiting does. He knows the ache it builds.
“You think you’re ready for me, but you’re not,” he says quietly. “I could spend hours just like this. Teasing you. Making you beg. You’d beg, wouldn’t you?”
I shudder, forcing myself to nod.
“I bet you’d sound sweet. All breathless, all desperate. Telling me you need it. But I’m not gonna give it to you yet. You need to learn patience.”
His fingertips trace over my hips now, slow, barely a touch, but enough to leave me gasping for air I can’t seem to catch.
“I could tell you exactly what I’m gonna do to you, but that wouldn’t be half as fun as letting you wonder
