“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She presses against me. “I can’t decide what I like more.” She tilts her head. “This or the killing outfit.”
I grin. “Killing outfit?” I slide my hand around her waist.
“The baseball hat is what made me extra tingly,” she hums.
“This is the first I’m hearing of the tingling.” I drop my head, pressing my lips against her temple.
“It’s what prompted the touching.”
“Really?” I kiss her lightly. “Is the tingling back?” I brush my face against her cheek.
“Yes,” she breathes, gripping my shirt.
“What should we do about it?” I ask.
“I want you to touch me,” she rasps.
“Are you ready?”
“Please, Ezra.” She tilts her head and drags her tongue across my skin. “Never be afraid to touch me.”
I move my hand up her back. “Careful, Foxy. My control is frayed,” I grit out, and tighten my grip.
“Control is overrated,” she says.
Fuck, she has no idea the beast she will unleash.
Chapter Thirteen
Rylee
Igroan as he drags his hand from my back to my waist, squeezing and then easing back. He focuses on my face, staring intently, as if weighing the seriousness of my words. I drop my arm and wait patiently.
I thought my mate was sexy before, but seeing him dressed up sends my desire to another level. Knowing he did it for me is hot and sweet. I appreciate his willingness to go slow, but it’s time to go to the next level. I’m not scared of him. He hides hisneeds easily, but with every action and word, he shows me how much he cares. The mating bond is pushing me to be close, so I know he is uncomfortable keeping a distance. He has my trust, knowing he won’t hurt me. It’s time to stop holding back.
“Pick a word,” he growls. “Something you don’t normally say, and that you will remember.”
“Captive,” I blurt, saying the first thing that came to mind.
“Good. Say it if you have any reservations. If you don’t like what I’m doing, say your word. I’ll stop, and we’ll talk.”
“I will.” The light material of my dress feels heavy against my skin. Every movement irritates me. My body needs relief, and Ezra is the only man who will ease it.
“Put your hands on the counter,” he orders softly, and I comply. “This is all about you.” I inhale sharply as he presses his palm against my stomach, and he tilts his head. “I want to hear how I make you feel.”
The heat of his hand seeps through my dress, fire burning in the trail as he glides down and teases the seam where my leg is bare. He moves closer, and I drop my head back. I stare at him, his eyes swirling, his fox shining in them. I inhale sharply. He caresses the inside of my thigh, and I have the urge to twist my hips.
“Ezra,” I groan.
“Do you want fast?” he asks, and I nod. “Maybe I want to savor you.”
“Savor later,” I hiss, and he pushes on my hips, turning to face the cupboard.
“Give me your hand.” He holds his right hand out. I’m confused, but do as he asks. “I want you to feel what I feel.” He laces our fingers, pulls me back with his other hand on my stomach, and glides our joined hands under my dress.
“Fuck,” I hiss as our fingers trace my panties.
