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I turn around, propped up on my elbows, and meet his darkened gaze. I must be selfish, because all I want is to get lost in this moment. “Make me.”
A low grunt slips from his mouth before he’s on me. His fingers latch onto my throat and he uses it to haul me up, nearly lifting me in the air.
His hold isn’t threatening, but it’s controlling, and I have no choice but to look at him and drown in those eyes I thought I’d lost.
“As I said. Strip,” he repeats again. “And that’s ten.”
My lips part. “You want me to strip in this position?”
“You don’t want it to become twenty, now do you?”
My shaky fingers undo the zipper of my dress and I push the straps away until the piece of clothing hits the carpet.
Creighton’s gaze falls to my lace bra and panties and he grunts. “Fucking purple.”
I love how much I affect him.
The way he looks at me like he’ll never look at anyone the same way.
The way he wants me with abundance and refuses to see anything past it.
“All of it, Annika.”
It takes me several moments to unhook my bra, partly because of my unsteady hands and partly because of his hungry gaze.
When I take more time than needed to pull off my panties, he bunches the material in his fist.
“No, not Simone!”
A muscle clenches in his jaw but he pauses. “Who the fuck is Simone?”
“Simone Pérèle. The lingerie brand. Don’t rip it.” I push his hand away and try to finish the task.
The brute all but tears it to pieces.
“Creighton!”
“I’ll buy you another one.” His gaze darkens as he does a long sweep of my nakedness.
It’s crazy how my body comes alive under his attention. How everything just…falls into place.
He doesn’t need to touch me to provoke this feeling of irreversible belonging.
I was his even when I thought we were over.
I was his when I was trying to move on.
I’ll always be his.
Just like he’ll always be mine.
His free hand strokes my tight nipples, making me moan, then he pinches one with sensual brutality. His palm slides down, over the red fading lashes he left on my stomach. I hiss when he presses on them and then he moves to the handprints on my ass and cups me with it.
I get on my tiptoes, both due to the dull ache and the thrill of being utterly owned.
He wiggles the butt plug that he shoved up my ass this morning and I bite my lip.
“I bet this hole is all stretched and ready for me to claim it, isn’t it?”
