31
I’m woken shortly after by the feel of Weston’s fingers stroking my forehead. “Oh… sorry. I fell asleep.”
He smiles.
“I had a horrible sleep last night,” I explain. “And your bed is super comfy.”
“I like seeing you like this, in my bed.”
I smile.
He trails a finger along my collarbone. “I’d really like to peel off that throw, and seeall of you.”
“But I’m so cozy, and the room is chilly.”
He laughs.
“You know what I’d like?” I ask.
He raises a brow. “What would you like, Grasshopper? I’m listening.”
“I’d love you to takeallyour clothes off. I want to see you.”
A blush traces his features. His grin is playful. “You would, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, I would.”
He rises from the bed and walks away. I wonder if I’ve offended him. He likes to order others around, but he doesn’t like being told what to do. Typical alpha dominant.
He turns around with a huge grin on his face. “Well, what the lady wants, the lady gets.”
“Hell, yes!”
He inches a little closer, toying with the buttons of his dress shirt. He undoes them leisurely, quietly. Not a single sound can be heard, save for my heightened breathing. Once all the buttons are undone, he peels off his shirt, so slowly. He’s down to his pants and white tank top.
“Pull that thing off,” I beg.
He smiles and obliges, and damn, the man is gorgeous. The six-pack I was hoping for is there, and so is the sexy dark line under his naval, leading to the band of his pants.
He closes the distance between us, and undoes his fly. He quickly pulls off his pants. He’s not so patient anymore, and neither am I. He’s down to his silky black boxers, clearly hard already.
I love it. I can’t peel my eyes away as he frees his glorious erection. Damn, I should have better prepared myself for this. Now all I want is him inside me.
Finally, he’s completely naked. “Your turn,” he says softly. “Take off that throw.”
I hesitate for just a second before peeling off the soft throw. The chill of the room hits me right away, but my insides are burning up. I want him to see me completely naked. I hope he likes what he sees. I’m not fully waxed, and I hope he doesn’t mind the sight of my pussy.
“Beautiful,” he says. “Let me touch you.”
He sits on the edge of the bed, and strokes me softly. Everywhere. My breasts, my belly, around my belly button and down my thighs. He touches me everywhere, but not where I really want to be touched. He’s teasing again. He’s driving me wild.
He traces his finger softly along my bruise, along the bandaged scar on my forehead.
“I hate that he’s done this to you.”
“I think he was much worse off than me,” I point out. “I really went medieval on him with that lamp.”
He laughs. “I always knew you were a feisty one. I like that about you.”
