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My hands are trembling as we take the elevator up to the fourth floor. We’re in the same hotel he brought me to last night, only we’re in different rooms.
He exits the elevator first, his eyes darting up and down the hallway as if he expects someone to jump out and thwart our plans.
I don’t know why I’m anxious. Elle’s case has been solved, and I was able to do it by putting the man in his grave rather than having to fight for my sister’s justice through the court system. I would gladly sign up for repeating it all again to avoid having to see that narcissistic smug bastard across a courtroom.
Sawyer is not Joey Dixon. The man waiting for me to exit the elevator could never hurt someone the way Dixon did, and I feel like shit for even being capable of thinking he could.
“Look,” he says, holding up a second key card. “I got a room across from yours, just like last night. There’s no obligation to—”
“Do you not want to fuck me?”
There’s no accusation in my voice. I’m not forcing him to do a damn thing, but I also don’t want to be a pity fuck either because he thinks I’m some fragile woman who needs coddling.
“You know better,” he says, his eyes serious. “But I don’t want to fuck a woman who doesn’t really want to be fucked.”
I pull one of the keys out of his hand and walk toward the room, grateful when he steps inside with me.
It feels awkward and it shouldn’t. I’ve been in this position with him before, but this time seems different. He’s not making commands of me.
I turn around to face him, a chill running up my spine when I press my face into his chest and his hand runs up my back.
“I need you to be… you,” I whisper in his chest.
“Yeah?” he whispers, his fingers tangling in my hair.
“I’d be offended if you were anything else.”
He doesn’t waste a breath before pressing his lips to mine.
“Missed that tight cunt of yours, Lennox. Take my cock out.”
This man. This is the man I’ve needed.
Eagerness makes me clumsy, but he simply chuckles, a deep rumbling sound low inside of him when I fumble with his zipper twice before managing to pull it down.
“I love that you go commando,” I say, feeling chastised when he grabs my hand before I run it up his exposed shaft.
“Did I say you could touch me?”
I bite my lower lip, angling my head just enough that I can lock eyes with him.
“Use your words.”
“No, sir,” I say, loving the thick, heated intake of breath it causes.
A slow smile spreads out on his face, and I feel like prey trapped in a deadly spider’s web.
I drop my eyes, wanting another look at the way the light glints off his piercings, but he catches my face in his huge hands, keeping my eyes locked on his.
“You said you wanted to use me, but I’m getting a feeling you’re the one who wants to be used. Am I right?”
I nod without hesitation. Giving your power to someone else you trust is vastly different from someone trying to steal that power from you. Submitting to Sawyer tonight isn’t the same as what Dixon did last night.
“I’m yours,” I manage. “Use me.”
He doesn’t immediately move. His eyes dart back and forth between mine as if he’s somehow assessing my true intent.
“I’ll stop anytime you want,” he says, and I know he’s saying it for both of our benefits.
Playing these games is one thing, taking it too far isn’t something either of us want to do.
“I know,” I tell him.
“On your knees.”
He doesn’t even have to bother with putting pressure on my shoulder to urge me down.
My first instinct is to reach for him again, but I know disobeying will only postpone things.
He watches my face as he swirls his thumb over my lips, dipping inside just enough to make me moan but then pulling back before I can lock my lips around it and suck.
“You are so fucking tempting, Lennox. Knowing how hot and tight your cunt is makes me want to skip all of the fun stuff and dive right into it. Lick my tip. That’s it. Taste me.”
His groan of pleasure rumbles out of him, and although I’ve not been given permission, I reach up and place my hands, palm down on his abdomen just in case he does it again.
My mouth works him over, my throat opening exactly the way I know he loves.
I gasp, blinking up at him in shock when he pulls at my hair, forcing me to release him.
He doesn’t say a word as he stares down at me. There are hints of both humor and some irritation in his eyes, and, despite being on my knees, I’ve never felt more powerful.
