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‘You cannot come.’
I gasp as my body bucks uncontrollably, my eyes widening into his, dark and stormy, and what the actual fuck?
‘Not until I say.’
‘What?’
‘You heard me.’
I shake my head. ‘I never...’ pant ‘...took you...’ pant ‘...for a sadist!’
His eyes flash, his smile darkens. ‘Don’t worry, baby, I’ll let you come, just not yet.’
I rock with the thrill of it, of him getting off on the idea as much as I am.
I nod. It’s hurried and pleading and oh, my fucking God, if his hand doesn’t drop to my pussy right now I think I’m going to scream, regardless of any unsuspecting audience I may draw, the panic I might spark in him. But he does it. He takes hold of my dress in one hand and nudges both of mine out of the way.
‘As you were...’ He nods to the tree trunk stretching out high above our heads and I know exactly what he’s asking. I raise one arm, then the other, and bite into my lip as he gathers the skirt of my dress in his fist and presses it into the tree beside my head, leaning over me. ‘I’m going to stroke you...slow and sure...and you will stay still...very still.’
I frown into his eyes. Is he for real?
‘One movement and I’ll take it away.’
He is for real and I nod. God help me, I nod.
I’m not sure I’m even capable of staying still. Hell, I’ve been going to Blacks for six years; I’ve lived out many fantasies ten, twenty times over, but prolonged, delayed pleasure like this? Never.
‘Good girl.’ It’s a husky whisper that teases down my spine, making me squirm and wriggle and—
‘I said, stay still.’
I bite my lip harder as I stare up at him and clutch my hands together, pressing them back into the cold, harsh wood.
‘Better.’
Yes. His gruff approval is enough to make me want to whimper and please him and make this game last. He lifts his hand to my neck, his fingers soft, delicate, a frustrating tease.
‘So long as you let me reciprocate later.’
His eyes flick to mine, his fingers pause as they trail over my collarbone. ‘That’s not how this works.’
I choke back a laugh but I know he senses it, his eyes flashing ever more dangerously.
‘I mean it, Cait.’
He’s so serious that I want to laugh all the more.
Then I remember his rules—his bedroom rules.
‘This is how sex is in my world. If you don’t like it then...’
I shake my head. God, no. ‘Don’t stop.’
I clamp my lips together as I breathe in deeply through my nose and let it out slowly, his fingers tracking the movement of my chest as they trail down my skin. His cock juts, lifting his sporran between us, the strength of his need undeniable. He wants me. Really wants me. And I’ve never known a man to want like Jackson does right now and walk away. Would he? Truly?
I stay still, perfectly still; I’m not about to test it. I’m happy drowning in his gaze as he watches his fingers explore my every inch. He barely touches me, his fingers almost hovering rather than caressing, as though it’s his body heat, the shift in the air between my skin and his that I feel and it’s driving me crazy, making me want to beg, to move, to thrust myself closer.
But I don’t.
