it all.
Her inner selfish heathen was determined to have her way tonight, and damn the consequences.
He moved to her, pressing his body against hers, her back firm against the wall. He leaned in, kissing her hard, his mouth savage, demanding. He cupped her face, blunt fingertips digging into her skin as he took possession of her with his lips, teeth and tongue.
She kissed him back, helpless to do anything but answer his every demand.
She’d never even conceived of a kiss like this. Filled with so much desperation. So much need.
The need to control, the need to submit. The need to possess and the need to yield.
It was everything, and it all blended together. His needs and hers. It was a perfect storm, and it was happening around them. In them.
He lowered his head, lips on her neck, her collarbone. He cupped her breasts, lowered his head and slid the flat of his tongue down between the valley of her breasts.
She arched into him, her shoulder blades still against the wall, a hoarse cry rising in her throat.
“How should I punish you?” he asked, scraping his teeth along the plump curve of her breast before soothing it with his tongue. “With pleasure? With pain? Or do you like both?” He bit her again, harder this time, the shaft of pure, undiluted lust it sent through her far more shocking than the sting he left behind.
“I like whatever you want to give me,” she said, shocked by the huskiness in her tone. By the confidence in the statement.
“That’s what I want to hear.” He grabbed the cup of her bra and tugged it down. “You are beautiful.” He rubbed his thumb over the tip of her nipple, drawing it into a point so tight it hurt in the best way possible.
Yes. She liked whatever he wanted to give.
And it made all of this so easy.
He tugged the other side of her bra down and squeezed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, increasing the pressure until she had to bite her lip to keep from whimpering from the pain.
“You like it,” he said, not a question.
She nodded.
“Good. I like it, too,” he said. “I like that I can push it to the edge with you. That you want me enough that it all feels good. That’s it, isn’t it?”
A rush of warmth burst through her. “Yes.”
“I bet I know what you want,” he said.
“Do you?”
“You want to come.”
His words sent a shaft of heat—embarrassed and aroused—through her. “Well, doesn’t everyone?”
He chuckled, low and sexy. “I suppose. But that’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“I want to...” She’d never said anything like this out loud before. “I want to c-come.”
“Have I mentioned,” he said, not addressing what she said at all, “that I was dying to see you in these stockings and heels?”
“No...”
“I was.” He slid his finger along the lace top of her stay-ups. “So sexy. And these...” He moved his index finger to the top of her panties and dipped it beneath the thin black fabric. She could hardly breathe. Her body felt like it was going to burst into flame at any moment. “These are perfect. But—” he slipped his hand down inside, his palm barely skimming the most intimate part of her as he pushed her underwear down her legs “—I don’t think you’ll need them for a while.”
He cupped her then, sliding his fingers across her slick flesh, one pressing inside of her. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.
He rocked his palm against her clitoris as he pushed his finger in deep, sending a shock wave of sensation through her.
He dropped down to his knees and kissed her stomach, leaning in then and removing his hand, flicking his tongue over her clit while his finger worked in time with the strokes.
“Oh...” She laced her fingers through his hair and held her to him, her head back against the wall as she warred between trying to figure out how she’d gotten here tonight, mostly naked, with a man on his knees in front of her, and just trying not to black out.
She held him tight to her, flexing her hips and chasing her release. She was close...so close...
“Enough,” he said. “Not yet.”
“No,” she said, tightening her hold on his hair.
“You aren’t in any position to give orders,” he said, moving away from her and standing. She wanted to cry with frustration now.
“I need...”
“I know what you need,” he said. He started to loosen his tie, undoing the knot and letting it drape over his shoulder. Then he shrugged his coat off. Undid his cuffs. It was maddening to watch. Each detail meticulous, far too slow and utterly arousing.
She didn’t want to watch him do the world’s slowest striptease. She wanted him to touch her again. Taste her again.
“We do need some rules,” he said. “Because I want control, but I don’t want to hurt you. Not really. If you need me to stop, you tell me to stop. Just say the word. Don’t think it. Don’t hope it. Say it. I want control, but not force. Do you promise to tell me to stop?” There was something in his eyes when he said that, something that tugged at her. And there was a strand of fear in his voice.
As if he were truly afraid she would let him go too far.
And she realized something. He wanted control, but only the control she would give him.
That was her power. He needed this from her, but she had to be willing to give it. She had to trust him enough that she believed he would stop if she asked.
She nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Good,” he said, the word rough. “Now, on the bed.”
“What...now?”
“On the bed,” he said. “Don’t talk unless I tell you to. Get on the bed, in your high heels and stockings, and spread your legs for me.”
She kept her eyes on his, because she had a feeling she wasn’t permitted to look away, as she got onto the massive bed. She lay back, breathing difficult now as she put her feet as flat as she could.
Her sky-high shoes almost lifted her rear up off the mattress, leaving her feeling extra exposed. Exceedingly vulnerable.
She’d never been naked in front of a man before. Ever. And this didn’t follow any guidebook she’d read for sex. Didn’t evoke any of the random novels
