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I set these bags on the table and she starts going through those, deciding where the groceries go. She turns her back, ignores me as if I’m not standing here like a dumb ass waiting for her queenly acknowledgement. I’m not used to this feeling of inadequacy she’s making me feel right now. I’m not that guy. I’m the guy other men look up to. They want to be me. So, why am I unsure with her, like a teenager, standing around with my hands in my front pockets.
No, no more. She’s done putting the groceries away and I’m done too. I grab her around her waist and throw her over my shoulder, she screams like a banshee. Good thing I don’t have close neighbors.
Her little fists bang against my back and ass feels like she’s patting me, her knees against my chest and abdomen are a different matter. I grab the back of her knees and keep them from striking me with them.
“Let me go, fucker.”
“We’re going to talk. You won’t talk otherwise so here we are. You being my captive.” I slap my hand hard against her ass, the whack almost more than I can handle. I need to be inside her, and the need is immense. I’ve never handled anything like this before. I want something or someone and I get it or her. No questions. This is in a different league than what I’m used to.
I shove the door to my bedroom open with my other hand and toss her on the bed on my dark blue comforter. She lies where she was tossed, picks her upper body up on her elbows glaring at me the whole while.
“What? I don’t understand what happened? You were all ready to jump my boner and now you’re full of hate?” I push my fingers through my hair, frustration makes me tug on the strands. Even though I’m frustrated beyond any man’s understanding of a woman’s mind, she is more beautiful than any other woman I’ve wanted. Her long, blond hair curls about her face, she raises a hand to pull strands out of her eyes and mouth. Blue eyes are the dark blue of a stormy, frothy sea.
I stalk over to her on the bed and l lean down, my thighs spread, her legs between mine, my arms on either side of her. Trapped under me. In my power to use how I want. If I want. A surge of excitement makes the blood in my veins heat and bubble and flow; ocean waves is all I can hear.
Fear floods her eyes, not what I want to see but I want her to respect me. I’m not a push over. “You…you’re not going to force me.”
“I don’t have to force you. I never would. You wanted me before. I want to know why you changed. What happened?” My voice lowers to a deep, rumbling growl, a monster growing inside of me I can’t let out in front of her. I don’t want her to fear me anymore than she is.
“You scared me.” She turns her head to the side so I can only see one side of her face, her expressive eyes hidden.
“Look at me.” I push a commanding tone at her, willing her to obey. Of course, she doesn’t. I reach my hand out, curling my fingers against her soft cheek and turn her face myself. Her eyelashes flutter but she won’t look at me. “Look. At. Me.” This time I shout the words at her and her head flies up, eyes looking straight at me. There’s no fear now. Only that anger. Good. I’d rather have her angry than scared.
“Better. How did I scare you?” My tone is soft and soothing, a temptation.
“The way you drove the car. You drove way too fast. It was scary, Griffin.” She shouts the words back at me, daggers, each one intending to draw blood. The only problem is I can’t be hurt with words. I move off her, my hand grabs hers, yanking her off the bed with me.
“I’m sorry I scared you, Kat. You know I never would have if I had known. You wanted me to hurry back and so that’s what I was doing.” She lowers her eyes to the floor for a minute, considering what I said. I wait. “That was all I could think about.”
She raises them back to me with a hesitant nod, “okay. I understand.”
I try to give her a chance to say no, though the thought of her doing just that almost destroys my strength of resolve. She bites her bottom lip and I groan closing my eyes. This young woman is killing me. Literally. I don’t know how much I can hold on.
Soft, hesitate hands fumble with the buttons on my button-down shirt. I gape down at her taking control, her eyes down at what she’s doing. She can’t be more perfect for me. Both subservient and dominant. I love the way she fights me at times and then submits.
She’s worked her way down to the top of my slacks and is trying to slip my belt through the loops. This is taking too long. I can’t wait any longer.
I grab her hands and trap them behind her back holding them together by the wrists with one hand while I undo my belt and unzip my slacks with the other. She pants fast breaths, her body shudders with every gasp she takes, rubbing her thighs together as she waits to see what I’m going to do next. I released her wrists, grabbing her blouse, tearing it into two pieces.
“Griff!”
I toss the scraps of cloth to the side and reach for her bra.
“No.” She protests and hurries to unsnap the back, bowing her arms, letting it slip off her arms to the floor. She slides her gaze to the door and back to me, her mouth opens as if to say something and changes her mind, closing it slowly.
My smile is sly, my hands go to the zipper on her jeans, waiting for her to show fear. She’s hesitant, that’s it. I toe my shoes off, one after the other. Katrina’s fingers dip into the waistband of her bikini underwear, sliding them down her hips and she shimmies them down her legs to the floor, her tennis shoes follow.
I lift each leg until the pants fall to the floor and we stare at each other. This is the appetizer before the feast and she’s my soon-to-be banquet, spread out before me. Without any thought, as if on instinct my hands find her waist and all I do for a few seconds is slide my hands up and down her skin, my thumbs against her soft stomach. I settle my hands on her full hips, my toes dig into the deep pile carpet. I back her up until the high bed touches the backs of her thighs.
We are going to have a full night. I hope she’s well rested. She’s not getting any relief until morning.
“Just say no and I’ll stop.” His voice whispers into my ear, deep and low, a growling hushed murmur.
My heart pounds in my throat, my fear and desire fight for dominance. I don’t know which will win. I know which one I want to win. “Yes.”
I lay a hand on his bare chest, marveling at all the tattoos behind his dress shirt. I’ve never seen him in anything else. Never a T-shirt or sweater or anything casual. My fingers curl into the hair on his chest. I tug slightly and he groans as if the pain turns him on somehow.
A shiver runs over my skin, the pads of his fingers run lightly down my arms bringing goosebumps. Down my ribs to the sides of my breasts, circling around, teasing, they pebble to hard points. I pant, fast and furious, wanting more. More. Always more.
