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She shifted on the seat, her chin lifting higher. ‘Maybe. And so?’

‘So?’ I let the hunger show in my voice, throwing the challenge right back at her. ‘Show me more. Show me that pretty little pussy of yours.’ I rested my weight on my hands and leaned in, the scent of her arousal sweet and musky in the air, the heat of her body making me ache to touch her. ‘Show me how wet you are.’

Her skin was a fiery red, but her chin firmed, the gold in her gaze leaping higher.

Desire wrapped its hands around my throat, choking me, because if that wasn’t the look of a woman accepting a challenge, I didn’t know what was.

Christ, she had courage. And a backbone of pure steel.

She lifted her hands and then—little witch—put them on her hips, sliding them down slowly and watching me as she did so, as if gauging my response. I didn’t hold back, showing her what her sexy show was doing to me and she liked that. She liked that a lot, desire flickering over her face as she stared at me.

As if that was a goad, she slid her hands lower, between her spread thighs, her fingers firm on her own slick flesh as she gently eased apart the wet, pink folds of her pussy, holding them there.

My fingers dug into the leather of the armrests, the need to dive right in, put my mouth on her, my hands on her, almost all-consuming. I ached like a motherfucker and my mouth watered. But I stayed where I was, enjoying the view.

‘Beautiful.’ My voice had gone low and rough. ‘All pink and wet. You really like me looking, don’t you?’

She shivered, her breathing uneven, her gaze hot and focused on mine. ‘Yes. Seen enough, yet?’

‘No, not nearly enough.’ I glanced down at the lovely sight of her spread thighs, at the petal pink of her sex and the gleam of moisture on her skin, the sheen of it on her fingers. ‘Is this all for me?’

‘Y-yes,’ she said thickly.

My own heartbeat was loud in my head, a thudding, insistent rhythm. I was used to taking what I wanted when I wanted it. I never had to wait. But now, here with her, I wanted to.

If it added to her pleasure I’d wait till kingdom fucking come.

I met her hazel eyes. ‘And what would you like me to do about it?’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ellie

MY HEART WAS beating so loudly I could hardly hear anything, and I was shaking, hardly able to breathe through the intense hunger that had me in its grip.

Mr Evans was kneeling in front of my seat, gripping onto the arms, his knuckles white. His scarred face was fierce with the same hunger that was rising in me, his eyes electric on mine.

Sitting there with my legs spread, holding myself open for him, I’d never felt so vulnerable and yet so weirdly powerful in all my life.

Doing this was pushing him hard and I knew it. In fact, I could see how close to the edge he was—he didn’t hide it. Yet he wasn’t moving.

He had all the strength and yet, strangely, I had all the power.

I’d been hesitant about him looking at me at first, and, to be honest, uncomfortable and a bit scared. Because I’d hated how Mark had done the same thing, staring at me as if I was something he wanted to eat.

But I didn’t hate Mr Evans looking at me.

I didn’t hate it at all.

Not when I could see how hard he was holding himself back. All that strength was tightly leashed, the power of him humming in the air around him like a force field, yet he didn’t release it. He kept it in check.

Kept himself in check.

He’d said this was different, but I hadn’t realised how different until now. I hadn’t realised how much I liked him looking at me until now either.

Being desired wasn’t something I’d wanted, and yet... I wanted to be desired by him. More, I wanted to keep pushing him, to see how far I could go, where his boundaries were, because he must have them.

A dangerous game, perhaps?

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