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“Like”—she smiles—“I can trust you?”
“Yes,” I confirm.
“Good.” Her hand goes to the belt around her waist. “You exposed a part of yourself to me tonight.” She pulls on the belt. “And I’d like to do the same for you.”
The jacket opens, revealing her naked, soft, curvy flesh.
I clench my hands as her pink-tipped nipples and plump breasts flirt with my eyes. I want to slap them, bite them, grab them, teach them a lesson for taunting me. Take them within my grasp and make them feel my wrath, the pain in my cock, and the desire in my heart.
The jacket falls back from her shoulders. It drops to the floor like a silent warning—a quiet premonition of what’s to come next.
My cock jolts in my jeans, longing for the hard come it so desperately needs. It’s hurt for days because of her.
She lifts her chin, eyes glowing from across the room. “I wasn’t done showing you my power.” She starts toward me, slow and steady in nothing but a pair of heels.
Fuck. She’s sexy.
I feast on her vision. Devour every curve, swallowing her whole. Take in every inch of her exquisite and shapely body. Take it deep inside me.
The pulse in my temple beats hard. It twangs in my neck. She’s the thumb strumming my tight strings, orchestrating a fucked-up symphony in my pants.
She stops in front of me. I could lift my hand and touch her. Kiss her. Punish her for fucking with my cock, messing with my head, and teasing my vulnerable heart.
I want to show her my power. Reveal myself to her. Give her what I need to heal the ache inside me.
It’s hell to remain calm. Like when I engage with an abuser, all I want is to kill the fucker. I struggle like hell to fight the urge. Just as I’m struggling not to reach out and take her, claim her as my own the way I want.
I glare down at her, bottling my need for her inside to keep her safe. “You didn’t need to come over here to show off your power. I saw it the first time I met you.” I glance at her mouth, tits, her curvy body. I drag my eyes back to hers. “I see it whenever I look at you.”
A small pleased smile tips her lush lips. She sets her warm hands on my chest. My muscles squeeze tight as she runs a gentle touch down my torso, teasing my resolve.
The friction of my reaction runs wild within.
I remain stoic. My hands clench tighter, causing my pulse to pound in my wrists.
Her fingers play me, performing over my skin like a song slowly building for the final verse. The one that calls for a specific reaction.
A vibe of uncontrollable release.
She draws her hands down my arms and pushes them behind my back.
“What are you doing?” The words growl through my teeth as I attempt to keep my need inside.
“Whatever I want.” Her view drops to my jeans.
She unbuttons them and draws my zipper down.
Confident blue eyes flash up to me as her hand slips into my pants.
“Fu-u-ck.” I shudder from the warmth of her small hand around my hard and pulsating cock.
Ready to blow my load right here, I dig my fingers deeper into my palms. With every turn, this woman challenges me and puts my control to the ultimate test.
“I just want to know what you feel like.”
“Your curiosity will get you in trouble,” I hiss, fighting for control while staring up at the ceiling.
“It’s nice.” She smiles.
