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She turned to him as the doors closed. “Kiss me.”
He tucked his hands in his front pockets and leaned back against the wall. He was miserable behind his zipper, but hewasgoing to control this interaction. As much as possible anyway. “Nope.”
Her mouth fell open. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Please. I need you.”
“I know.”
“Now.” She started to step forward.
“If you touch me now, I won’t bend you over your couch and fuck you the second we walk in the door.”
She froze. She stared at him. Clearly she was calculating which she wanted more—making out in the elevator or what he’d just promised.
“If you’re good, thesecondyou cross the threshold of your apartment, I will strip you, bend you over, and eat you until you come, then fuck you to your third orgasm of the night.”
Her breath caught and her cheeks flushed.
And she didn’t make any further move toward him.
He knew her.
“I had planned to give you flowers, drink some wine, kiss you for an hour, then spread you out on your bed, feed you chocolate and strawberries, trail them all over you, paint your body with whipped cream, and lick it all clean before making love to you slow and sweet,” he told her, watching the numbers change above them. As if they were discussing the weather.
“I don’t ne—”
“But you’ve made it very clear that what you want is a screaming orgasm and to be done with this whole virginity thing.” His eyes found hers. “You’ve made it very clear how you’re feeling tonight. Bad girls don’t get strawberries and whipped cream.”
He watched a little shiver go through her and fought a grin. She liked this dirty stuff. She liked when he was a little firm and bossy with her.
That was not brand-new information. He’d definitely had his rougher side come out a few times before, but he tried to hold back. She was a virgin, and all of this was new to her. He wanted to be gentle and go slow. He wanted to give her a chance to adjust and to ask for what she needed while not overwhelming her.
But maybe he’d underestimated her.
Or perhaps he’d created a monster.
Either way, he liked being able to let this side out. He could do chocolate-covered strawberries and flowers for this woman. But if she just wanted to be fucked well, he was absolutely the guy for that.
The elevator finally arrived on the tenth floor, and the door swished open. Without a word, they stepped out, and Becca turned left, leading him to her apartment door. She was walking very fast. He chuckled from behind her.
She looked back. “You realize you have my hopes really high, right?”
He crowded her close against the door as she worked to get the key into the lock.
He swept the hair back from her neck and leaned in, dragging his beard up and down her neck and shoulder. “You don’t even know what you’re hoping for.” He bit down lightly on her neck. “Brace yourself.”
The shiver that went through her this time was much more pronounced. She finally got the door unlocked and pushed it open.
He pushed her through it, less gently than he’d intended, and kicked it shut behind them.
She turned to face him. Her hand lifted to the tie holding the right strap of her dress up, but he was there, tugging it loose and pushing the dress to the floor before she could even say his name. The material pooled at her feet.
He ran his hands up and down, from her hips to her breasts and back. He loved everything about her body. The curves, the silkiness of her skin, the weight of her breasts, the hard points of her nipples, the dip at her waist, the curve of her ass. He appreciated all of it with his hands in long slow strokes, then he turned her, pulled her back against his chest, and moved to cup between her thighs. He pressed his middle finger deep where he knew she was still hot and wet.
She moaned. “I’m still right on the edge.”
