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“I always have been,” she said. “I just needed to find her. She was always there. But you helped bring her out. Because you…knowing you, has changed me.”
She could see it, clear and quick, a flash of fear in his eyes. “Have I?” he asked, his voice rough.
“Yes. You’ve helped me find my power. My peace with myself.”
“How did I do that?” he asked.
“By being you.”
She took a step toward him, her heart thundering, the need burning in her like fire overtaking any insecurity that might threaten to ruin the moment. Her moment. His moment.
She reached behind her back and started to undo the hooks and eyes on the corset bra, letting it fall to the floor, her breasts bare for his inspection.
He was watching her, motionless as stone, his body tense, his expression blank. But there was a wealth of information in that blank slate. She knew him well enough to know that now. That the less she saw, the more there was. The more desperately he was trying to hide. To keep control.
She wouldn’t let him have it. Not tonight. She wanted more. More than their first night, more, even, than the night in the kitchen. She wanted it all. All of him.
She hooked her fingers in the sides of her panties and tugged them down her legs, kicking them to the side. Then she closed the distance between them, pressing her body against his, still fully clothed in his tux. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his lips.
“Handy thing about the high heels,” she said. “I don’t have to get up on my tiptoes. But I do think they leave me a little overdressed.” She toed them off and shoved them out of the way. “And you are way overdressed.”
Paige put her hands on his shirt and concentrated on undoing every last button, shoving it, along with his suit jacket, onto the floor.
“Relax, Dante,” she whispered. “Don’t you ever relax?”
“Show me a man who can relax while you’re doing this to him. He does not exist.” His voice was strangled, affected.
She planted her hand on his chest, feeling the heat of flesh and muscle beneath her palm. “I don’t know very many women who could relax with you looking like this. I know I’m not exactly relaxed. Just incredibly turned on.”
A groan escaped his lips and she captured it with hers, sliding her tongue over his, pressing her breasts to his bare skin. She pulled away from him, kissing his neck, tasting the salt of his skin, before traveling lower to his chest.
She traveled lower, lavishing attention on each ridge of muscle, his stomach contracting beneath her lips, his fingers tangling in her hair, working at the pins that held it in place.
She stopped at the waistband of his pants, tracing the line where flesh met fabric with the tip of her tongue. Then she started loosening his belt, pulling it slowly through the loops, watching the effect each movement had on her captive.
The muscles in his stomach jumped as her hand brushed the hardness of his cloth-covered erection, his eyes like black fire, burning into her, his attention rapt on her. There was no disinterest now. No flatness. Nothing veiled, nothing hidden.
She pushed his pants down his lean hips, leaving him gorgeous, naked and aroused for her exploration. She circled his length with her hand, testing the weight of him, the hardness. She squeezed him gently and earned a rough growl of pleasure. So uncivilized. So uncontrolled. So everything she wanted from him.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” she said, on her knees in front of him, a subservient position. Ironic, because in that moment she knew, for a fact, that she was the one with all the power.
“What is that?” he asked. She could hear the strain in his voice, could hear the edge, how close he was to losing his control completely.
And she pushed. She leaned in, flicking her tongue over the head of his erection. Tasting him, testing him. So good. So perfect.
She dipped her head, taking him inside of her mouth, her lips sliding over his length. He pushed his fingers deeper into her hair, her curls falling out of the pins and cascading over her shoulders.
“Dio, Paige.”
Her name on his lips was fuel for the fire. She continued to explore him with her mouth, her tongue, pushing him higher, harder. Pushing herself right along with him. She could feel him shaking, the muscles in his thighs, his hands in her hair unsteady.
