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I peered up at him, conscious of the material sliding across my skin. I tugged the ends of the tie until the wider end was longer. “I admit to a fascination with ties. So many different knots.”
His Adam’s apple jumped as I crossed the wider end over the skinny side and carefully built a knot. My heartbeat ratcheted up with each pass of the silk across my skin as I slowly formed the Eldridge knot. It was thicker and a little more complicated. It helped me focus through the nerves that were building again.
He was so watchful.
So very intense.
I finished it and tugged it up closer to my neck. “See? The light sheen to your tie makes it look especially kick ass.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked as he lightly traced the intricate folds down to the dimple in the silk under the knot. He tightened his fingers around the material and yanked me to him. “I was trying to keep myself in check.”
My pulse rocketed. “I appreciate that, but I’m fine now.” I shifted in his lap until I knelt next to him, just a little taller than him for this one moment.
He kept a hold of the tie and jerked me down to him. “Now isn’t the time to play.”
“Maybe a little bit of play.” Bold now, I straddled him. His jaw was so tight it looked like it pained him. I touched the full lower lip with the tip of my tongue. Just a little taste. I licked at that mixture of hard and soft. The slash of his upper lip and the achingly smooth lower.
His fingers trailed liquid fire between my shoulder blades to the dip at my lower back. I tucked my hand into the space where his buttons had gaped. Smooth skin. So hot and warm. Muscles rippled under my palm, and I couldn’t stop the curiosity that burned into me.
Ink.
So much detail.
Too much for me to capture when his mouth was doing all those delicious things to my neck. I wanted to rip the buttons open and explore him, but he had other plans. He hissed when my hand drifted down to his buckle.
His tattoo was forgotten in the urgency that unfolded between us. The outline of his shaft arrowed up until there was no stopping me. I definitely didn’t have to worry about his interest. I needed his skin. Needed that part of him in my hands.
I flicked open the hook front of his dress pants. Oh, so beautifully made to create smooth lines, except now it was keeping him from me. I reached in, and there was steel under cotton waiting for me.
The only outward reaction was how still he went.
Then his fingers gripped my hips tighter. I needed him inside me. Needed him out of these stupid pants. At least enough for me to get him where I wanted him. I snaked into the opening of his underwear and groaned. Blood pulsed under skin as he filled my hand. I stroked him lightly, unsure what I should do.
This was the part I was unsure of. Missionary position and the occasional spooning were pretty much the extent of my sexual knowledge. And tonight I’d learned just what a mouth felt like, and how much I wanted to revisit the whole standing thing.
But here and now, there was Blake in my hand and a restless urge to take every part of him inside me. Skin, sweat, cock. I wanted to see him break.
Not just watch.
Not just get me off.
I wanted to be the one who found his lock.
He groaned and moved his hips restlessly.
“Like this?” I asked and twisted lightly along the base of his shaft and stroked up.
“Fuck.”
I smiled when a flush branded his chest and up his neck with each caress.
“Ms. Copeland…”
“Grace.” I got to the top of his shaft and a drop of wetness slid over my fingers. “Say my name, Blake.”
The shadows were lengthening, and now the street was empty. No headlights to break the spell, no people sharing the moment, no regrets riding me. All I wanted was this man to say my name. To know it was me who was in this moment with him.
He gasped out a groan as I palmed his head and used the wetness to glide easier.
