he has no idea what he’s talking about, but he’s read every journal I wrote. Stole those thoughts. Apparently memorized them.
His eyes flash with the knowledge of those thoughts, his body pushing away from the dresser to approach the bed.
“So, let’s talk about them.”
Knowing what he’s about to do, I realize I’m officially fucked. Literally and figuratively.
Ari knows it, too, if the way his eyes lock to mine say anything about it.
The mattress dips at my feet when he sits down, the tip of his finger brushing up the bottom of my foot so softly it makes me flinch.
“You wanted a man who knew all there was to know about you. That was what you always wrote in one way or another, on every other page it seemed.”
Brushing his finger up the bottom of my foot again, he doesn’t glance over to look at me when my leg kicks, my knee bending for just a second before straightening again. Tracing the tip of his finger down the top of my foot, he brushes several over my ankle, a subtle warning that he could grip down and hold me still.
Goosebumps erupt over my skin, the hair on my arms standing on edge from both the threat of him and the way he knows just how to touch me to drive shivers down my spine, to cause heat to bloom between my thighs.
“You wanted a man who wouldn’t run when he learned just how crazy your thoughts are. What you see in sleep. What turns you on.”
His mouth stretches at that thought, the beauty of his profile breathtaking. A brow arches above his eye, as he trails two fingertips up the inside of my calf to my knee.
“I have to admit, I appreciated those thoughts the most. I’m not one for fluffy romance either.”
His head turns to look at me, so much heat behind that gaze that I feel it in my belly.
“You wanted a man who will bend your will while making you beg for more. Who is stronger. Someone who appreciates how dirty and broken you are and will want you because of it.”
My eyes close to hear the words I’d written so many times.
Ari’s hand creeps high enough up the inside of my thigh that the back of his fingers brush the hem of my shirt. I tremble at the touch, my fingers gripping over the straps as if that could still me in place.
“You found him,” he says. “Or I guess the truth is that he found you.”
My shirt slips slowly up my thighs as his hand progresses, the restraints at my wrists becoming tight as I shiver against his touch.
The bastard is right. Every word he says. Every truth he spills out about the thoughts inside my head and the wishes I’ve made that I never believed could come true.
Dragging my t-shirt up my body as he moves to prop his body up on an elbow beside me, Ari pushes the material up to just beneath my breasts.
His gaze focuses on my stomach where he toys the tips of his fingers gently over the skin, soft circles around my navel and beneath the line of my rib cage.
My arms are shaking and it’s a fight not to move, not to show him how badly I just want him to stop playing around and take what I know he’s after.
That damn smirk is on his face again. I can’t hide what I’m feeling. He already knows.
Voice soft, Ari continues teasing my skin, his eyes focused on the path of his fingers.
“Why fight against the one thing you’ve always wanted?”
His grey eyes shift to mine. “Why not just enjoy it?”
Against my better judgment, I give in, my hips rolling in a circle over the mattress as his hand drops down to trace the edge of my panties.
His lips tug wider, not the rare smile that captivates me each time I see it, but the one grin he’s always worn when he knows he’s won.
Shifting over the mattress, Ari straddles my body again, careful to keep his weight from crushing me as he lifts that devilish grey gaze to mine with every promise of sin rolling behind it.
“Would you like me to show you what I do to you when you sleep?”
My wrists tug at the restraints because what I’d like to do is touch him. He must know it because his eyes flick to the movement, something dark rolling across his expression that drives the air from my lungs.