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"Now the dress. Off." His words—so precise—were a definite command.
Determined, I gripped the bodice of the dress where he'd unzipped me, worked the fabric over my hips, and let go. Gravity took hold, pulling it into a satiny heap around my calves. I stepped out carefully one shoe at a time, the chill of the night air sweeping over my skin. Designer ball gowns came with built-in bras and underlying slips, so once it was off my body, there wasn't much left to remove. Panties, stockings, gloves, shoes—was all that remained.
Slowly I lifted my eyes to his, meeting his stare. The harsh look on his face would've startled me if I wasn't so aroused. I could hardly breathe. The cool autumn air swept over my skin tightening my nipples to nearly painful peaks. James noticed. He stared leisurely before meeting my eyes again with a slow shake of his head.
"I used to imagine you like this—what you'd look like standing before me, waiting for me to tell you what to do next."
I took in a shuddering breath, unwilling to speak. I was too far into the exchange to even think about forming any words of my own. The look in his eyes.
"The reality is so much better, beautiful. You're perfect in every way."
I wished he would touch me. The longer I stood on display the more desperate I felt. Surely I would combust soon.
"Are you afraid?"
I nodded my head.
"Answer me with words, baby. I need to hear you," he scolded gently.
"Yes, I am afraid," I answered honestly.
"Afraid of me?" He raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Never of you."
"What then?"
"That I might burn up if you don't touch me." Even I could hear the frustration in my voice.
He gave me a wicked grin. "You want to be touched?"
"Yes."
"What else do you want?"
"I…I want…I want you to kiss me again."
"And?"
"I want to feel your hands on me." I wanted more than just his hands, and he knew it. I waited for him to command that I say how much I wanted his cock, but it didn't come. He kept staring at my body hungrily as if he couldn't decide where to start.
"We need a bed for the many things I want to do to you before this night is over."
"D-don't you have a bed?"
He laughed. "Oh, I have one. And I'm going to fuck you in it just as soon as you walk that very fine ass of yours up the stairs."
A bolt of heat hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled.
James saying the words, "I'm going to fuck you," in any context related to me would certainly do it. I sucked in a breath and looked toward the staircase, wondering how on earth my legs would manage to carry me up so many steps when they could barely hold me up. I'll never make it on my wobbly ass legs.
"You'll make it because I'll be right behind you enjoying the view. If you stumble, I'll catch you, and for the record, your legs are sheer perfection," he said, jerking his head the direction of the stairs.
Mortified to realize I was speaking the thoughts in my head out loud for him to hear, I closed my eyes tightly in frustration.
"You're going to have to open your eyes before you start walking, though," he said, clearly amused by my dilemma. "Go upstairs to my bedroom, Winter. We're not doing this anywhere but in my bed tonight. At least the first time."
The promise of something I'd desired for so long staring me right in the face was so different than how I'd imagined it would be. James was different. He was so demanding…and dominant.
