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My body flares and I’m mortified by my reaction to his words. But can I really hold myself responsible when I’m so wound up a breeze could set me off?
“What are you doing here?” My voice comes out breathy and God—just fucking kill me.
“I live here.”
I realize quickly I won’t be winning this exchange and begin to clamber out of the chair until his hand lands on my shoulder and I freeze.
“You could have just asked, you know,” his voice dripping with lewd intent.
His fingers have time to slide up my neck and into my hair before I push him away. He fists my hair and my head jerks up, mouth opening in a gasp. And to my absolute disgust, my clit throbs in response.
I’m burning up.
I’m on fucking fire.
“What?” It’s almost a whisper but I know he’s heard me.
“If you wanted to come, darling, you could have just asked. ” His voice is low, like we’re both unconsciously trying not to disturb the silence surrounding us. His face is too close, much too close. My eyes flit back and forth trying to figure out if he's being serious, but the night is too dark to make out much of anything.
Except the heat of his body near mine.
Finally, he lets go. He smooths out his suit jacket, opens it up and sits down on the deck chair beside me. He pulls a joint out of thin air and flicks his silver zippo open. The flames dance against his irises, watching me. After a long drag, he smiles, and the smoke curls around him like an apparition. His whole demeanor is so arrogant, I hate him on the spot. Or at least I try.
It’s not a hard sentiment to conjure up most days.
“Isn’t that what a husband is for? To satisfy his wife’s needs,” he drawls.
“Are you finished?” I bite out.
“Did you?”
I scoff and he chuckles. “If you think I’m going to sit here and feel embarrassed that you caught me masturbating, you’ll be waiting a long time,”
He falls silent, taking another drag, his other hand slicking a few errant strands of his black hair back in place. Nothing good comes from Connor being this quiet.
“I’ve come up with another condition for you being under my protection.”
I look over, mentally readying myself to strangle him to death. But, I’m also morbidly curious to hear what’s about to come out his mouth.
“Your orgasms,” he points at me with the two fingers holding his joint and then jerks his thumb back to him, “are nowmine.”
I sit stunned for a beat, thinking I might have just gone out of my goddamn mind. And then finally, I laugh. Still, it doesn’t quite cut the tension between us. “You must be joking. That’syour condition? Sexual coercion?”
Connor’s hand smooths over his mustache like he’s trying to hide a smile before answering. “Don’t sit there, lying to me and tell me that this whole thing doesn’t turn you on, Lenix.” He sends a haughty wink my way. “I remember what you like.”
Heat pools low in my stomach and I would rather suffer an aneurysm than to admit that this shmuck is having any effect on me.
“You do realize that’s a hard rule to enforce, right?”
He hums, tapping his finger on his chin as if musing on something. “But now every time you want to slide your fingers into your wet little cunt, you’ll be thinking of me, won’t you?” he says so deliberately, it feels like every word was carefully chosen to insight a reaction out of me. It’s working. “I’ll be controlling your orgasms even when I’m not in the room.”
The God complex on this guy.
“Why don’t I finish what you started, darling? We can both pretend you didn’t want it afterwards. What do you say?”
He smiles, and it’s pure sex and darkness as he leans forward, his forearms on his knees waiting for my answer. My heart slams in my chest, and I swallow hard, my throat tight in anticipation. My mind is muddled, positively addled by the constant throbbing between my legs. I can’t tear my eyes away from him while I chew the inside of my cheek, trying to think clearly but failing spectacularly.
It’s inevitable.
