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Yet.
He’s going to.
I can read that in his face.
“I-I can’t hide anything in this dress,” I sputter against my better judgment.
“Still going to fucking check.” He skims his hands down over me, light like a lover, and far more devastating than if he’d gone for a hard, cold frisk, or a taunt like Jac.
He brushes against me, and that hard cock is there, and I want it more than I think I’ve wanted any man. Even Jac. I hate him, and I’d wanted him to work that depraved magic and force me to come… Hendrick? I want to eat him alive.
“Sweet fucking Magdalena,” he murmurs as he licks and bites my throat, and then I stop thinking as his fingers shift, dancing over me. When he steps back, the dress hangs open, exposing me.
Dimly, I’m impressed he pulled the kind of pickpocket move on me. He got all the hooks and eyes holding me in from the side fastenings and I didn’t even notice. Me. But I’m more focused on his gaze that burns into me, the way his hand strokes over his covered cock, and the lust and male appreciation in how he fucks me with his eyes, caresses me.
“Take it off and turn.”
Part of me screams that this is insane. There’s no way I’m getting naked here and now, especially when I’m so close to getting out of here with the prize of a lifetime.
But the other part…that part knows that to be able to leave with the necklace and not be killed, it’s wiser to do as he says. Not fight.
So…I do what he demands. I slide out of my dress and turn, facing away from him.
“That ass is fucking perfect.” He’s there. The heat of his body pressed against me as his fingers start to stroke over me, and he kisses and licks and sucks on my nape, driving me almost insane.
He slides down between my ass cheeks, fingers a little at my ass before slipping down to dip into my pussy.
Hendrick does it slow. A shallow, lazy move, the angle perfect to push his fingertip to hit my G-spot.
I’m breathing hard, and then he comes back up, pushes that finger into my ass and I moan loud.
He stops. “Turn to face me.”
I do.
“I fucking love this blush.” He brushes his hands down my throat to my breasts, tweaking both nipples, and I bite my lip, trying to stay upright. It’s hard because every part of me is clamoring for more, telling me to run. Urging me to beg for him to take me hard.
This is fantasy territory.
My fate is in his hands. He can do what he wants. How he wants.
I’m in his mansion. Caught almost red-handed, and he can be as rough and forceful as he wants.
He can demand me to do what he wants.
I’m in heaven. On a slice of hell.
I want this so bad I’m practically coming from the thought.
His hands slide down my ribcage, to my hips, and then thighs, and I shift, spreading for him.
“By the blush, Magdalena, I think you’re hiding something.”
“I’m naked,” I say, voice a little slurred.
He smiles. “There are places. And I think I might have felt something…”
To my shock, he goes to his knees and pushes apart my thighs. Then his tongue is on me.
