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“No.” So firm, so confident.
Oh, they’d see about that. She turned, presenting him with her bare ass as she bent over with her legs straight and slid the material down to her ankles. Widening her stance a bit, she looked over her shoulder at him. An amused smile curled his sinfully full lips, but that wasn’t what made her heart double-time. It was the way he held himself absolutely still, his focus locked on her, as if it was taking everything he had not to bound off the love seat and fuck her right there on the floor while she was half naked and trembling with want. She almost moaned out loud at the sight before remembering that, like always, she needed to keep a mental distance. Sex was sex. With Dom it would be dirtier, hotter, and better than most, but she couldn’t get lost in him, couldn’t feel safe. He wasn’t her forever—he was her Roman Holiday.
Free of her pants, she turned back to face him, pulling her thin T-shirt down in the middle to stop him from getting a good look at exactly what he wanted to see. The move made the material slide farther off her shoulder, exposing her breast right down to the top curve of her light pink areola. His jaw went hard. She got even wetter but didn’t speed up this striptease. She couldn’t help herself—she wanted to know how far she could push him before he lost his iron grip on control.
She wet her lips, a quick flick of her tongue that left her mouth glistening. A little nonverbal suggestion never hurt anyone. “So how do I get you to lick me?”
“All you have to do is ask,” he said, his voice low and full of decadent promise, his wicked words fire on her already sensitive skin.
“And you’ll say yes?” Her core clenched at the possibility.
A predatory grin curled the corners of his delicious mouth. “Depends on how pretty you put it.”
Trouble, thy name is Dom. And it was just the kind of trouble she liked, what had pulled her to him the moment he’d stepped off the elevator onto the Dylan’s showroom floor. Big risk, big reward. Her gaze dipped down to the outline of his hard cock against his jeans. Her mouth went dry, and her nipples stiffened to almost painful peaks.
“You want me to beg.” Damn, how had her voice gotten that breathy and needy?
“I want to make you so hot you won’t be able to make a coheren
t sound at all.” He reached behind his head and pulled off the sweater, revealing a wide plane of muscle dusted with light blond hair that became several shades darker as it formed a line that disappeared behind his waistband. “Now take off the shirt.”
It was there in his tone, that loose string that if she pulled it he’d come undone. Anticipation thrummed through her body and soul. She tugged the shirt farther down, and one stiff nipple popped out of the top. “This shirt?”
He leaned forward, letting his forearms rest on his muscular thighs, his hands hanging loose as if the tension between them wasn’t gripping both of them tight. “Last warning, Elle.”
“Or what?” She batted her eyelashes at him, coy as could be. “You’ll spank me?”
“No.” A flash of something hard, determined, and so hungry for her it defied description crossed his face. “That shirt will come off anyway, and then I’ll take you right to the edge of coming and stop. Then I’ll do that again and again and again until you’re so slippery with want that you really will beg me to give you what you need.”
How she kept her legs from collapsing, she wasn’t sure. “And will you?”
“Eventually.” He relaxed back into the love seat, like a panther toying with its prey. “If you’re a good girl.” He paused, his gaze devouring her. “Take it off. Now.”
Too turned on to delay any longer, she whipped her shirt off and stood naked before him. “Happy now?”
“Getting there.” He squeezed his cock through his jeans. “Come over here.”
On wobbly legs, she did. He stretched his arms across the back of the love seat, giving her a prime view of his magnificent bare chest. “Take off my jeans.”
Unable to deny him—or herself—any longer, she practically leaped at the chance. Her hands trembled as she snapped open the button and lowered his zipper. He lifted his hips, and she tugged the jeans off. She almost came on the spot. He was commando.
“Since you’re so interested in licking, Elle, why don’t you start?”
It wasn’t a command. It wasn’t a request. It was a challenge. He wanted to play…and so did she.
Settling down on her knees, she wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock. It was hot silk wrapped around iron. Bringing it up to her mouth, she looked up to see him watching her. Good. She was going to put on a show. Time to make Mr. Control Freak let go. She started soft. Just the tip of her tongue against his head, little lapping tastes at the precome that had him closing his eyes in ecstasy. It was meant to make him crazy, but it had the same effect on her. She couldn’t get enough. The head, the base, the shaft, she licked it all before taking him deep into her mouth and then releasing him and starting all over again with teasing licks around the head.
“Elle,” he groaned.
Pulling back, she grinned and sat on her heels. “Are you begging, Dom?”
Something dangerous sparked in his eyes, and he lifted her from the floor and slid her up the hard planes of his body until her breasts were at mouth level. “I never beg.”
“We’ll see about—” The rest died on her lips the moment he took her nipple into his mouth.
Grazing his teeth across the sensitive bud, he teased and tormented her with the same lazy, determined ease that she had used on him until she was ready to agree to anything if he promised to never stop. But he did.
He twisted so her back was flat against the leather still warm from him. “Lie back and let’s see what sounds that smart mouth of yours makes when you come all over my tongue.”
