The Price of Inertia (The Seven Sins #4) - Lily Zante Page 0,62

I consider making him a mug of hot chocolate.

“Just stay here.”

In the silence, the weirdness between us amplifies. The things that happened here in this very room, the episode with the pen, him stroking and touching me with it, all of it comes alive in my mind in brilliant color. I consider leaning across him again in order to reach for my cup, but my nerves and recklessness get the better of me.

Instead I take a risk and move over and position myself so that I’m straddling him. And then I wait for him to ask me what the hell I’m doing.

He looks up at me. The light is dim but not too dark that I don’t see the element of surprise in his expression. I sit on his lap, my knees on either side of his hips, and just like that, oh-so-slowly, his hardness begins to poke at me.

My hands are on my thighs, one of his arms rests on the armrest, the other by his side.

“If you want me to move, just say the word.” My voice is barely a whisper. This isn’t me trying to be sultry. This is me being half scared, half bold. It’s my next move, following on from his seduction tactic with the pen which has given me enough confidence to know he won’t fire me for this.

He doesn’t say a word, but his cock replies with a little twitch. “Hmm.” I mewl. I like the feel of him against me. It’s all I’ve been thinking about ever since I first felt him against me.

My nightshirt has ridden up to my thighs and I’m feeling warm. It’s not only because the fire is burning. The heat between us grows. I take off my sweatshirt so that I’m only wearing my strappy nightshirt.

Another flash if lightning cuts through the night sky. Ward’s body tenses, and I hold his shoulders. “It’s okay,” I murmur, just as a burst of thunder follows. I put my hands on his shoulders, can’t help but slide them down his arms slowly. I run my fingers over his muscles, loving the feel of his hard-as-rock biceps. There is no stomach between us. I splay my hands over his chest, over his t-shirt. Feel his hard lean stomach.

“Someone’s working out,” I whisper. I long to slide my hands under his t-shirt so that I can touch his skin, but I force myself to go slow.

“You notice the difference?” he asks. I bite my lower lip, then slide my hands back up to his arms. “I’ve been noticing a lot of things.”

“Like?”

“The beard. The hair.”

He smiles. “I can think more clearly now that I don’t have the weight of all that hair.”

I mirror his smile. “It suits you.” He hasn’t asked me what the heck do I think I’m doing, so I take it that he’s okay with me sitting on him like this. Besides, I already have confirmation from the bulge between his legs. Feeling brave I lift up on my knees, then position myself so that the throbbing between my legs, the slick wetness of my arousal, is directly over the tip of his erection.

An animal growl falls from his lips as I push my hips into him then rock slowly back and forth gently. He seems to like it. At least, he hasn’t complained. I also like the feel of him against me. My panties are so wet, and when I reach down to touch him through his sweatpants, I feel his wetness, too.

“I want to make better memories for you.”

I swallow, wishing that we were naked. Wishing I could impale myself on his sweet and sexy cock inch by inch. The more he hardens, the more I rub against him.

“Is it helping?” I whisper, my need to come getting stronger and stronger. The thick tip of his cock isn’t going to do it, but it helps in some small way to quell the desire that has been building up inside me for weeks.

“Helping with what?” he asks, his breath ragged.

I close my eyes, wanting all of him and yet forcing myself to hold back. The next move isn’t mine to make. He grabs my hips with both his hands as I continue to rock against him.

I don’t want a barrier between us, I don’t want clothing. I want just him. I close my eyes, and throw back my head back, taking all I can from him in this constrained position. He squeezes my breast, holding it in place