Free Exploited (The Dark Redemption Series) by Lane Hart

he’s doing, his hand searches for mine in the dark. Finding it on the mattress, resting under my cheek, he grabs the back of my hand and then moves it, placing it underneath my shirt where his own just was.
    “Can I touch you this way?” he asks, guiding my hand higher and higher until I’m grasping my own breasts. I’ve touched my breasts before, of course, but never like this, though. Never in a sexual way. With the weight of his hand on mine, I squeeze one and then the other before he takes one of my fingertips and circles my nipple with it. Between the gentle, yet exciting feel of touching myself and the way his body seems to rock into my backside with each movement, my panties quickly become damp. The bulge of his jeans pressing into my bottom, in particular, make my lips part with panting breaths. I don’t know what this man looks like, who he is, or anything about him, except that he knows the absolute worst about me, and here he is again tonight, curled up with me in bed, making me feel this way.
    Making me feel alive.
    Unable to resist, I push my hips back into his hardness against my ass, silently asking for more. In fact, I’m not sure if it’s my hands or his trailing back down my stomach and to the top of my pajama shorts.
    Lips pressing kisses against my ear, he asks, “Lower?” while easing our fingers teasingly underneath the elastic waistband.
    I nod, my hair once again brushing his face.
    “Say the word, Blair.”
    He wants words, while I desperately want his hand in that place between my legs. Waiting for me to respond, he continues to dip our fingers lower and then retreating, lower then retreat.
    “Blair?” he prompts. “Yes or no, baby girl?”
    I try to say the word, but it barely comes out above a whisper. Clearing my throat, I try again.
    “Y-y-yes,” I say, proud of myself for actually speaking it aloud. “Yes,” I repeat because it’s so nice, both the vocalization of what I want and the feel of him slipping our hands down into my cotton panties.
    “Good girl,” he says with a brush of his lips over the sensitive skin of my neck. I suck in a breath and hold it when he guides my fingertips over that place between my legs that Brede found earlier. It feels so damn good to be rubbed there. Do all men know where that secret spot is? Because this man, whose name I don’t know, directs me right to it, making my body shiver and a soft moan unexpectedly escape my lips.
    “Does that feel good?” he asks, pressing down harder while easing one of my fingers into my soaked entrance. Another moan is my only response. “So fucking wet. I wanna taste you, right here,” he whispers, pushing my finger deeper while the heel of our hands keep pressing on that secret spot.
    “Ohh,” I groan, my back arching to grind my ass against his erection harder as my entire body begins to tremble.
    “That’s it, baby girl,” he says. “Work that fine ass on my cock.”
    His words, his big guiding hand, the wrongness of letting a stranger touch me, all push me over the invisible ledge. The muscles in my stomach and thighs tense, and then the pleasurable waves are rolling through me again. “Oh! Oh God!” I gasp out as I lose control of my own body when it convulses uncontrollably in a seized up fetal position.
    Before I recover, I’m forced to my back, the weight of his sturdy body pressing down on my much smaller one. His gloved palm cups the side of my face and then his mouth crashes down on mine. My very first kiss is frantic as his tongue forces its way into my mouth in search of my own. It’s incredible and so freaking hot. Peeking up at him in the darkness, I see he’s still wearing the dark ski mask, the bottom is raised to reveal his lips that are on mine. For some reason, my mind chooses that moment to remember earlier today when Brede and I were outside of the bar, his hand in my panties in a similar way, but he never once kissed me. Now, I feel cheated, because the stroke of this