...re of his neck and shoulder.
She slid her small hand into his pants’ pocket and slowly felt around for the chocolate bar.
He grabbed her wrist. She was getting a little too close for comfort to his hardening cock.
Her tongue lightly traced his earlobe. “Don’t you want to give it to me?” she cajoled.
He wanted to give it to her, all right, but not the chocolate.
“Chocolate’s only for superheroes…” he said weakly.
“And superheroines,” she countered. “Come on, let me have some, Ben,” she wheedled. “Don’t make me beg for it…”
He inhaled sharply. The image that flashed in his mind, of her on her knees before him, begging, was incredibly arousing.
The look in her eyes was triumphant. She could sense that he was on the verge of giving in.
He shook his head again, but far less resolutely than before.
She stared into his eyes, as if reading his mind, and smiled. “I know – I’ll trade you for it.”
Intrigued, he loosened his grip on her wrist. “What’ll you give me for it?”
“What do you want?”
His eyes bore into hers. “You know what I want, Gwen.”
She did know, but she felt like teasing him a little before giving it to him. She rubbed the pad of her thumb along his inner thigh and felt him stiffen.