How the Hitman Stole Christmas - Sam Mariano Page 0,21
looks up at me like an animal caught in a trap. I like her in this position—pinned beneath me on the bed with only a thin towel between us.
I don’t need restraints to make her helpless when I’m awake.
She’s got a death grip on that towel, though. I want to see all of her, every bare inch, so I reach down to move it. I’m surprised when she lets me. I expected her to put up a fight.
Her breath catches, a chill passing over her as the cool air hits her bare tits. Fear flashes through her eyes because she doesn’t know what I’ll do next.
I like watching her watch me, but I drop her wary gaze to look down at her body.
The towel is still partially wrapped around her torso, but the soft mounds of her breasts are completely uncovered and just begging to be played with.
Before I can touch her, she asks me a question, her voice trembling. “How?”
I look back at her face. I got so distracted by the sight of her breasts, I lost track of what we were talking about. She must see a flicker of uncertainty in my eyes, because she goes on, tentatively.
“How can I… show you?”
“Use your imagination,” I say. “Let’s see what you come up with.”
Autumn’s teeth sink into her plump lower lip, drawing my gaze straight to her mouth. Fuck, she looks sexy when she does that. Her body is trapped beneath mine so she must feel my swift reaction, like hard steel erecting itself against her soft thigh.
She swallows. Another flash of uncertainty flits through her pretty blue eyes, then I feel her moving beneath me, trying to shift positions. I want to see where she’s going with this, so I let her.
Her hands move quickly, like she has to do it before she changes her mind. She pulls the towel open so it’s beneath her on the bed, her body completely bare to my hungry gaze.
I don’t know why, but I can’t look away from those big blue eyes, even with her nakedness tempting me to look lower.
She moves her lovely legs next, letting them fall open.
I sink between them to see what she’ll do. I expect her to recoil with the rough fabric of my jeans pressed against her bare pussy, but she only jumps a little.
She takes a quick breath, her hands moving hesitantly to rest on my sides. Her touch is so light, I can barely feel it through the fabric of my shirt, but still it burns. Every centimeter of skin touched by her delicate fingers burns.
I want to fuck this girl. I knew I found her attractive, but I didn’t realize how much I wanted to fuck her.
The realization makes my heart pound faster. I want to fuck her, and I can—she’s right here, naked in my bed…
She’s so afraid of me right now, she may not even fight me.
I capture one of her much smaller hands in mine and pin it at her side against the bed, my gaze moving over her anxious face as I do. I want to look lower, but I still can’t drag my gaze away from her face.
I want to watch her as I touch her. I’m hungry for her reactions. I want to observe every gasp, every lurch. I want to know what makes her eyes roll back with pleasure, what makes her shyly avoid my gaze.
My fingers sink into her wet hair and curve around the back of her skull. I lift her off the bed just a little and she gasps, instinctively pushing against me, trying to get back on solid ground.
I don’t let her. I keep her suspended, just high enough off the bed to make her feel unsettled by my control over her. I want to see what she’ll do.
On the face of it, it’s an insignificant amount of power to wield. There are no real stakes. At worst, I drop her and she falls back against the mattress.
But I’m curious.
I have plenty of real power over her right now, but it has all been taken against her will. I want to see if she’ll give me any.
I have a feeling she will.
I wait for her to catch on. To trust me. It doesn’t take long.
When I pull her body close, she’s like clay in my hands. I pull her closer until her core is pressed against mine.
She locks her arms around me, pressing her lips against my chest.