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Giselle held my stare for a while after that, and I wished I knew what she was thinking. Her face gave nothing away, that smile long gone. The way she scrutinized me made me wonder if something heavy was on her mind. She might’ve told me the revelations she’d just found out, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it, more she wasn’t saying.
All of a sudden, she got to her feet and started to walk away, toward the hall. “Come with me.” That was all she said, and the way she said it made me believe it was not a request. More like a demand.
If it was anyone else making demands of me, I would’ve refused, but since it was Giselle, I got up and followed after her—though I did take my gun with me. I started after her down the hall, but I took a quick detour to the front door. The hinges were broken, not to mention the damned thing was severely dented, but I lifted it off the floor and rested it against the wall near the open space so that it covered some of the entryway.
Better a little than none, seeing as how I had no idea how long that Damian guy would be gone.
I hurried after Giselle once it was done, not sure where she’d gone to in the house. It was a newer, one-story abode, even though it looked like it could be two full stories from the street. That’s the thing about all these newer houses: lots of attic space.
I found Giselle standing in the first bedroom on the left, where a chair sat before the bed. She didn’t address the chair, but she did turn towards me and say, “Take off your clothes and get on the bed.”
That… wasn’t what I thought she’d say. Not by a long shot.
And that was why I stood there and did nothing but stare at her. In fact, I stared at her for so long, she had to repeat herself: “Take off your clothes, Cade, and get on the bed.” She folded her arms over her chest, cocking a hip at me as she assumed an attitude. An adorable attitude, but an attitude all the same.
I stepped closer to her. “And why should I do that?” Now was so obviously not the time for that, and yet, judging from her expression, she wasn’t going to let it go.
“Because I’m telling you to get on the bed after you take your clothes off,” she said, radiating feistiness. It reminded me of the night she’d handcuffed me to one of the beds at the Playground. As if sensing my train of thought, she added, “I won’t tie you down, but I do want your arms to stay above your head.”
“Princess,” I said, forcing out a low chuckle, “I don’t know if—”
She tilted her head at me, and the look she gave me right then shut me up. This, I realized, wasn’t up for debate. Taking off my clothes and getting on that bed for her… there was no other way this could go.
Even though my brain knew now wasn’t the right time to get frisky, the head between my legs had other ideas. It twitched, threatening to grow hard just from the mention of getting naked for Giselle.
“Fine,” I said, walking toward the bed. As I moved around her, I went to set my gun on the bed, near the pillows. “But this is staying close.” It had to be within reach, just in case. With this girl, you never knew who’d show up next wanting her dead.
As I turned around to face her once more, I started to unbutton my shirt after untucking it from my pants. One after the other, I worked my way down, revealing the black dragon design on my chest. Giselle’s gaze dropped to the tattoo and continued to fall as I undid lower buttons. She watched me with a strange mix of emotions on her face. Some hunger, yes, but also something else, something harder.
Or maybe it was just because today was a rough day for her, getting kidnapped and finding out that the man she thought was her father was in fact not her father, and that her biological father had been the priest she’d found dead.
Giselle probably wanted to forget. Forget the day’s events, forget its truths, forget all of it. If someone had to help her forget about it all, it might as well be me.
Once my shirt was undone, I pulled it off and set it on the simple nightstand beside the bed. I slipped my shoes off while I whipped off my belt, and then I worked on the button and zipper on my pants. Let’s just say by the time I was completely naked my cock was rock hard.
How could it not be? Giselle was safe, and she wanted me on that bed, in the light of the afternoon. A very different atmosphere from our two encounters at the Playground, but one I’d gladly take.
No masks. No pretending.
Baring myself to her, I moved to the bed. I got in the position she wanted me in: on my back, my hands above my head. She clearly wanted to be in charge right now, and I’d let her. I’d let this girl do whatever the hell she wanted to me, and I wouldn’t complain. How could I, when she was all I could think about?
Married or not; it didn’t matter. Whether she had feelings for other men didn’t matter. Not right now. No, right now this girl was mine.
She said not a word to me as she started to undress. Piece by piece she took off all her clothing, dropping them to the floor haphazardly. I had to lift my head off the pillow to watch her, needing to see her, to experience the beauty that was Giselle during the day and not the stolen hours of night.
My cock turned to steel as I watched, anticipation growing steadily in my veins. Giselle was gorgeous, even with that scab on her stomach. She hadn’t healed fully; couldn’t forget that. Maybe that’s why she wanted to be on top—she was worried I’d hurt her.
That was ridiculous. I’d never hurt her. I’d rather die than inflict an ounce of pain onto this girl.
Giselle was slow in crawling onto the bed. She did not position herself over me right away. She took her time, dragging her stare along my body, taking in the way I lay and how my own gaze was utterly fixated on her.
She had my attention. She had more than that. Truthfully, this girl could have whatever she wanted from me, and I would not complain. She could take everything and leave me in a pile of bones and dust, and I’d still be a happy man.
Determination set on her face, and she straddled me. Setting her hands on my abdomen, she positioned herself over me, and only when her gaze locked with mine did she sink down. She came down slowly, taking my length in inch after inch.
There was no foreplay, so her core wasn’t exactly dripping wet, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good. Of course it felt good. She was… fuck, she was so tight and warm, I had to throw my head back and close my eyes. Just for a moment, just while I got reacquainted with that welcoming space between her legs.
I let out a groan. I couldn’t help it. She felt too damned good. I wanted above all else to move my hands to those thighs, to hold onto her as she set the pace; it took every ounce of restraint inside me to refrain.
