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“It sounds like you are interested in one inch in particular,” I said, giving him an arch look. He had asked for something very specific when we were playing cards. Something I had never done before.
Or rather, something I had never had done to me.
Something utterly filthy, but also intriguing. Forbidden. I shivered a bit in nervous anticipation.
“If you don’t do as I ask and lie on your stomach, as I politely requested, I will start doing jumping jacks.”
“Vincent! That is blackmail!”
“Yes, it is,” he said smugly, looking extremely pleased with himself. “But I just want you to give this a try. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop. I have no intention or desire to force you, Francesca. I just want to touch you. I need to touch you. It doesn’t really matter where.”
“I know that.” I sighed. I wanted to touch him, too. A whole week of lying in bed beside his gorgeousness had me ready to climb him like a tree, too. And even if I was a little bit nervous about what he had proposed, I was curious about it too. And he was right about one thing . . . it had been a week. Maybe he really was okay. “Just promise you will be careful. And go slow,” I said, giving in. “Not for me. For you,” I clarified.
He lit up, looking like a kid who had just been given a huge bag of candy. Only, I was the candy. Literally.
“I will. I promise. Now take your clothes off,” he commanded, switching in the blink of an eye from an adorably happy child to a man with deadly serious business on his mind. He was like a CEO managing a corporate takeover. Or a lawyer preparing for trial. Or a general commanding his troops on the day on an invasion. But it was my body he planned on invading.
Invading in a way that was totally new to me.
I wasn’t going to lie. It turned me on when he got bossy with me. I would never allow it in front of other people or when discussing ordinary, day-to-day things. But in bed . . . it was hot. Vincent was a true Alpha. He was manly with a capital M.
And I absolutely loved it.
“Strip, Francesca,” he said when I didn’t move fast enough for him.
“Yes, sir,” I said jokingly with a mock salute. The man really did sound like a general. I reached for the silk button-down I wore. It was similar to all the other shirts in my closet. Clean, expensive, and white. I had an endless supply of them and didn’t keep them long, but I still did my best not to tear the buttons off. I was nervous, but I didn’t want him to see my fingers tremble. I didn’t tease him by slowly undressing this time. Judging by the enormous tent growing in my white linen sheets, Vincent wasn’t in the mood for games.
“I like it when you call me that.”
“What?” I asked, distracted as I shimmied out of my jeans.
He stared at me, not joking.
“Sir.”
I blinked at him, not sure how to respond to that. And then he grabbed my wrist and yanked me onto the bed. I gasped at how quickly it happened. One moment, I was standing and the next . . . I was lying over his lap, my bottom pointed high in the air.
“I should spank you for making me wait,” he murmured, his voice sounding thick with desire.
Speaking of thick . . . his erection was like a tree trunk pressing into my belly. It had been so long since we’d made love, I had almost forgotten how enormous he was.
And he wanted to put it . . . there.
He rubbed his palm over the fabric of my white silk panties, then lifted his hand and thwack!
He slapped my ass.
He’d done it.
He’d actually spanked me!
And then . . . he did it again.
I should have been angry. I should have been furious. Indignant.
Instead . . . I loved it.
I was wiggling and ready for him in seconds. Even faster than usual. Even faster than the speed of light.
“Vincent . . .” What was supposed to be a protest came out as a groan. “What are you—ooh!” I whimpered as he spanked me again.
And again. And again.
“God, I love watching your ass jiggle,” he said, sounding out of breath. I hoped he wasn’t overdoing it. And then he slid my panties down and started again.
I stopped thinking.
His bare palm on the sensitive bare skin of my bottom . . . the sting of it. And then the soothing feeling of his hands caressing the sting away.
All of it so close to my center, already wet and eager for him, was too much.
“Hmm . . . you really have been a bad girl, denying me for so long,” he said, bringing his hand down with more force. I didn’t mind it. My mind was almost in shock, but my body was craving it. I would have let him do anything he wanted to me at that moment.
