as he usually commands, in here women are the ones calling the shots.
I’ve never felt so empowered in my life. The thrill of it runs like a second pulse beneath my skin. “You’re too far away,” I tell him. “I want to touch you.”
“Then touch me.”
His words are soft and silky, but the challenge underneath them is unmistakable. I close the distance between us and reach out, my fingers trailing across his chest. He sucks in a breath as I trace the faint V of his hipbones. Strong grooves of muscle move beneath the skin.
“You still haven’t asked the question,” he murmurs.
My hands come to rest on the leather belt, my eyes finding his. “Will you sleep with me?”
“Not hypothetically?”
I shake my head in mute response.
His answer isn’t in words, either. Not as he takes my hair in his hands, the heavy, dark weight of it, and pushes it to the side. I turn for him and he finds the zipper of my dress, pulling it down in one smooth motion. The black sheath releases me from its grasp.
His eyes darken as they travel over my body, my underwear, the matching lace bra and panties. Perhaps I’d told myself I would just watch, not play, but… a small part of me had made sure I’d be ready. Just in case.
“So gorgeous,” he murmurs, hands closing around my waist. The competitive streak in me roars to life. I want to rise to this challenge, to him, to please him like I know he’ll please me.
I want to be the best sex this man has ever had.
I kiss him with the strength of that conviction, and he responds in kind, pulling me tight against him. One kiss flows into the next, each of them tightening the ache inside. We break apart when his hands find the buckle of my bra.
I hold my arms out as he slides it off, eyes watching as the cups release my breasts. He sucks in a dark breath and reaches out, hands replacing the fabric. They might be a pain when I’m shopping for sports bras, but they know how to dazzle.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he repeats and bends to suck a nipple into his mouth. I inhale at the sensation, but it quickly turns into a moan as he adds his teeth. “I’ve wanted to see these uncovered all night.”
“That’s why you wanted to talk to me, huh?” My hand tangles in his hair and my eyes close at the sensations. Men never pay enough attention to my nipples, but he does.
I take the moment to undo the buckle of his belt, but he pushes my hands away when I reach for the zipper. “Lie back on the bed,” he tells me.
So I do, stretching out on the luxurious linen, and tuck my elbows beneath me to watch as he undoes the zipper. My throat goes dry at the sight.
He’s hard and thick in his grip, and bigger than I’d anticipated. I watch as he strokes himself slowly once, twice, three times. “I’m so hard because of you, Strait-laced,” he says. “Have been since you kissed me out there like you wanted me more than your next breath.”
Our eyes lock.
I turn, crawling toward the edge of the bed. Pleasure and power and this man all make my head swim, giving rise to confidence I didn’t know I had in the bedroom.
He steps closer to the bed, groaning as I take him into my mouth. “Christ,” he mutters. “Just like that…”
I give it my all, like this is a sport and I’m aiming for the gold medal. My hand is fisted at the base of him, my tongue swirling over the swollen head. There’s so much of him, my insides aching at the thought of taking all of him inside.
And he tastes good, like man and desire and need. His hand threads through the length of my hair, a curse escaping him as I hollow my cheeks and suck the length of him into my mouth.
“You,” he growls. “I need to taste you.”
His hands are on my shoulders, and then I’m flipped over, my legs dragged to the edge of the bed. The dark in his eyes is burning, his gaze on mine one no woman would ever mistake. I don’t know if I’ve ever been looked at like that before.
He grips my panties and gives a single command. “Up.”
I raise my hips and watch as he pulls the underwear down my legs and throws them away, discarded,