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And when I did, a shiver ran up my spine, because I knew he’d just watched every second of me staring longingly at his package. Hard as stone before, his jaw has gone slack, and I was pretty sure it was dark, primal lust glinting in his eyes as he studied me, tormenting me with what felt like an eternity of silence before he finally spoke again.
“Do you think you can handle my cock inside you, Holland?”
I bit my lip at the tone of his voice when he asked. His eyes were still intense and unyielding, but his voice mimicked the soft, patient way he used to speak to me when I was younger—when he explained something confusing, or talked me through something that happened at school. It threw me off completely, but I still managed a nod in response.
Yes, Iain. I’m a big girl now, and I can handle your cock inside me.
The look of warning returned in his eyes as he studied me.
“I won’t be gentle,” he said.
“I don’t care,” I returned. “I don’t need you to be considering how crazy wet I am right now.” When Iain lifted his dark eyebrows, I rubbed my thighs together, feeling the slickness between them and the corners of my mouth twisting up with a hint of sheepishness. “I’ve literally never been this wet before in my life,” I said, almost wanting to laugh.
But Iain didn’t return my amusement. His brilliant eyes were still hard on me, and his chiseled features were unmoving, looking that much more like stone under the light of the moon. Standing in front of me in that crisp white shirt, he looked like the most perfect, flawless statue—so solemn and serious that I didn’t expect the words he said next.
“Show me then.”
I blinked.
What?
My eyebrows darted up in surprise, but I forced them quickly back down, refusing to look shaken like he wanted me to be, because it took a second, but I knew what he was doing.
He was trying to scare me off.
To prove I was just a dumb kid talking a big game. He was trying to prove to me that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, so despite my nerves—despite my breath shivering in my throat with every shallow inhalation—I forced myself to counter him.
“How would you like me to show you?”
Iain stared. He said nothing as he looked at me, and I couldn’t tell if he was pissed or pleased that I was willing to comply with his demand. His gait was relaxed, his hands slid in his pockets. But his expression remained stern, his mouth still a perfectly straight line as he took a step back and shifted his weight to his heels.
“Lift your skirt up for me.”
He said it so casually. With that natural air of authority, like it was a perfectly normal demand.
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Maybe that was why I obliged.
It was either that or the fact that I didn’t have a bluff for him to call—I wanted him. I had nearly ten years of wanting him coiled up in my bones, pent up inside me, calling all the shots. So once I had my peripherals confirm that we were alone, I reached my lightly trembling fingers down the front of my dress, scrunching the material of my flared skirt into my hands before pulling it up to reveal the damp white cotton of my panties.
Once I had them flashed, I could feel myself blushing from head to toe. My pussy clenched as I felt the late-night breeze ripple up my naked thighs, and my breathing grew jagged the longer I just stood there, shoulders pressed back against the wall, obediently holding my skirt up for Iain as I returned the intensity of his gaze.
He hadn’t even looked down yet. He just kept his storming eyes on mine for another few tormenting seconds, as if testing my nerves.
But then with a languid stroke of his palm over his jaw, he took another step back.
And then with the slightest tilt of the head, he flicked his stare down between my legs.
Anticipation quivered in my stomach as my own eyes followed suit, trailing from the gleaming Rolex clasped around his wrist to his masculine hand as he reached carefully forward, hooking two long fingers into the front of my panties.
Oh…
Fuck.
My mouth fell wide open, and goosebumps erupted all over as he grazed my naked mound with his knuckles. Hot need pulsed in my clit as I processed the fact that Iain Thorn had his hand in my panties, and it only deepened, turning into a full-on screaming throb as he gently stretched them to the side to expose my bare pussy.
Holy fuck, this is happening.
