Breaking.
Hurting.
And yet, none of the terror or nausea I’d imagined I’d feel in a situation like this materializes. All I feel is a heated, tingling sensation deep in my core.
Slithering.
Coiling.
Tightening, until my insides liquify and my breath catches with a quiet rasp in the back of my throat.
Achilles’ steady, strong fingers curl into the waist of my panties. Slowly, he starts to peel them down my hips.
My face flames with heat, my brow furrowing and my core clenching. Shame floods my system as I feel him pull my panties down my thighs to my knees.
But underneath the shame, it feels like letting go. Exhaling a held breath.
Dropping the poised, controlled, perfect image of who I am to the world.
The white lace slides down my calves, and I raise one foot and then the other, eyes still squeezed shut as I let him—let him—take my panties all the way off.
“Turn around.”
My pulse skips. My throat bobs. And slowly, very slowly, my feet turn me around until it’s my heels, not my toes, that are perched on the ladder.
Until I’m facing him looking down into his piercing dark gaze, his gorgeous jaw tight, that dark lock of hair across his forehead. A throb of heat zips through me as I watch him calmly tuck my panties into his jacket pocket.
“Sit.”
The single word drops quietly but commandingly from his perfect lips. I swallow, my lower lip catching in my teeth as I smooth the sides of my skirt and slowly lower my butt to the ladder step.
Achilles is eye level with my knees as I press them together. My hands drop to my thighs, my fingers splaying across the blue and gray plaid of my skirt and then nervously tightening on the fabric as I force myself to look him in the eye.
“Now,” he murmurs, his dark eyes glinting. “Spread your legs, baby.”
The rippling sensation that coils through my body isn’t fear, nor the sensation of being forced, or pushed, or cornered, even though I am.
It’s a ripple of desire, tangled up with an utter inability to move right now.
Achilles’ lips curl dangerously. My breath teases over my lips again as he sets his big hands on my exposed knees, gripping them just hard enough to send a tingle of electricity zipping over my skin.
“Shall I show youhow?” he growls with a hint of dark amusement.
I can’t speak. Can’t move. Can’t look away.
All I can do is slowly, silently…
…Nod.
Achilles slowly pries my knees apart, opening my legs to his gaze. But his eyes stay completely locked on mine, like he’s gauging my reaction.
Looking not justatme, butintome.
Into my soul.
Effortlessly stepping over my walls. Breaking the chains I keep around that secret place inside me and yanking it right open.
I tremble when I feel warm air tease up my bare thighs and over my naked pussy. Time seems to stop, the whole world going still except for the needy throb between my thighs and the twisted, aching desire coiling in my core.
