Why was I acting like this?
I hated the way he held me mentally captive. Here I was, trying to focus on Gavin and relinquish the feelings of guilt that weighed me down, but a part of me wanted Beckham to continue to push that fragile boundary.
His hands braced on either side of me, his scent engulfing me, making me feel more intoxicated than I probably already was.
“Don’t be jealous, my little flower… as much as you don’t want to admit it to yourself, you know you’re mine and mine alone. The most beautiful woman in the world…a fucking work of art.I should know.”
I couldn’t help but moan as he placed a tender kiss on my lips, almost like I’d been dying to have a taste of him.
That voice of his had weakened me, and as result, I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck, wanting to pull him in closer. He groaned as he sat beside me, putting his hand on my thigh, pushing my leg over.
“My pretty little flower…” he uttered.
I whimpered as he moved his hand towards my inner thigh and further up to my core.
I gasped as I felt his thumb over my clothed clit. “Someone could see us.”
“Let them see, Flower,” he murmured. “They won’t know. It’s not like I’m fucking you yet or anything.”
I bit my lip as his thumb went faster.
Maybe it was the bottomless champagne making me feel this way, but I felt utterly helpless against him.
“There we go. Already so wet? Looks like you were excited to see me, baby.”
His fingers were skilled, relentless, teasing me with a pressure that was just enough to have me squirming but not enough to push me over the edge.
My breath hitched as my thighs instinctively tried to close around his hand, but Beckham simply tsked, using his free hand to grip my knee and spread me open for him once more.
I knew this was dangerous.Anyone could walk outside and see us, see the way his fingers were working me through my panties, see the way my body responded so eagerly to his touch. And yet the thrill of it, the risk, only made the ache between my thighs intensify.
Then, suddenly, his fingers slipped away, leaving me trembling, aching, desperate for more. The sudden loss of contact sent a sharp pang through me, a cruel, unbearable emptiness.
My breath hitched as I squirmed in place, thighs clenching around nothing, my body still burning from the sensation.
Beckham leaned back against the chair, watching me,fucking savoring the pathetic view.
“Jealousanddesperate, Flower?” he murmured, his voice rich with sadistic amusement.
I exhaled shakily, my pulse pounding in my ears, every nerve hypersensitive, every inch of my body craving more.
“You are such an asshole.”
The sharpness of my voice brought a dangerous smirk to his lips. “And you get horny when you’re tipsy.”
I’d had too much to drink. I realized that now. I’d thought it was Kira—and maybe it was—but it was me, too. Vincent had kept my bottomless champagne topped up, and now I was suffering the consequences of it. How I’d even been able to hold myself together until now, keep professional, I didn’t know.
“Fuck you,” I seethed.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?As much as I appreciate your honesty, I won’t do anything more until you’re completely sober and can remember every single thing I do to you.” His voice was calm, unbothered.
I opened my mouth, ready to snap back, but I stopped.
“Go on then,” he continued smoothly, tilting his head. “Storm off. Find your husband. Tell him how much you love him… give him a kiss for me while you’re at it.”
Maybe it was the growing buzz of alcohol in my system, but rejection from a man who won’t take no for an answer weirdly made me feel even more drawn to him.
I hated it.Hated the way my body reacted to his words, to his control, to his refusal to give me exactly what I wanted when I wanted it.
