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I place both hands to his chest and glide them up his body, looping them around his neck. “I don’t want you to stop, Owen.”
His nostrils flare. “You can finish with my shirt and then I’m getting started with your dress.”
I press myself against his hard cock while threading my fingers up into the back of his hair where I know he likes them. “I want you in my mouth first.”
One of his hands comes to my ass and he pushes me even harder against his cock. “No.”
With one word, uttered in that deep, gravelly voice I can’t get enough of, he owns me and everything I do tonight.
I finish unbuttoning his shirt and discard it, eyeing every inch of his skin that I can now see. I also eye the jewelry he wears. A silver box chain necklace and a thick silver bracelet. He also wears a solid plain silver ring on his left pinky. I’ve never been with a guy who wears jewelry. I’m into all of it.
He traces a finger over my lips before saying, “Be a good girl and take a step back so I can look at you.”
God yes.
I do as he says.
He keeps his eyes on mine for a few more moments before letting them drop to my body, and goodness if his attention there doesn’t get me wetter than I already am.
He takes his time, looking at every inch of me before finally moving closer again. “Do you know how hard it was for me not to take you on my boardroom table today?” he asks as he runs a finger along my skin just above the neckline of my dress.
“As hard as it was for me not to beg for that?”
My breaths come a lot faster as Owen teases me with that finger on my skin. Can he just take my dress off already?
He keeps up the teasing while sliding one of my straps off my shoulder. Doing so reveals half a breast, and I am more than sure I just stole a breath from him.
“You’ve given up on the bras that cause you problems?” He keeps his eyes glued to my body while he asks this.
“I’m thinking about giving up on clothes altogether. Especially if you’re going to insist on taking so long to get them off me.”
He cups my breast, pushing the material of my dress down so he can see everything he wants to see. Tweaking my nipple, he bends to suck it into his mouth.
I arch into him, gripping his waist, needing more than he’s giving.
“I told you I’m teaching you patience,” he says.
“I’d like to make it known I don’t like being patient.”
“You will learn to.” He keeps his hand on my breast while his lips move to my throat. He then kisses his way up to my mouth, his eyes meeting mine. “You’ll like the payoff.”
I place my hands to his stomach. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?”
“I recall you may have mentioned something to that effect.”
“Well, in case you weren’t aware, you’re turning out to be very bossy.”
He kisses my neck. “Are we going to have a problem with that?”
I want to tell him yes.
I want to tell him we’re going to have all kinds of problems with his bossy ways.
But I don’t.
Because it turns out we’re not going to have a problem at all.
It turns out I like bossy.
