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This is that gruffness I was referring to. I just didn’t tell him how much I love it.
“That’s three, Cassandra.” Keeping me plastered to his front, Hans walks us toward his garage.
And then I feel it.
The hard length pressing into my ass as I bump against him with every step.
I can’t stop my groan or the way I grip his forearms.
In response, Hans holds me even tighter.
We step over the threshold into the garage, and the darkness consumes me. I hadn’t noticed that there’s no overhead light on. No glow of anything.
The night sky didn’t feel that dark while we were driving, but there’s nothing to help relieve the black before my eyes.
“All fucking night,” Hans grits out. “Teasing me with this fucking dress.”
Instead of turning toward the entrance to the house, he keeps going straight back.
“Flashing me those goddamn white panties.”
He shifts his hips as he steps, pushing his dick harder against me.
“Think you can have those tits in my face all night and I’ll just ignore it.”
“I-I didn’t mean to.” Arousal and delicious panic swirl inside me.
It’s so dark. I can’t see anything.
The laugh Hans lets out isn’t amused.
I stretch my hands out. “Hans.”
We have to be close to reaching the back wall.
One arm lets go of my waist. I open my eyes wider, trying to see, but the next thing I feel is that arm pressing down on the top of my own.
Hans clamps his arm around my chest, trapping my arms down so I can’t reach out. So I won’t be able to stop us before we run into the back wall.
“Wait!”
“Trust me,” he rumbles.
I don’t fight his hold. And he takes another two steps. Then he stops. And the arms around me release.
Another shriek leaves my lips as I drop. But his large body is still behind me, and I only fall a few inches before my tennis shoes land on some sort of rubber mat rather than the hard concrete floor.
I shift to turn around to face Hans, but when I try to twist, my hip bumps into something.
In the complete dark, Hans stopped us just inches away.
“I told you to trust me.” He grips my wrists and forcefully sets my hands on the surface in front of me. “I won’t tell you again.”
It’s some sort of counter. It’s a little higher than a normal kitchen counter, and it’s made of smooth, cold metal.
“Don’t move.”
“Don’t—” Before I can ask, the heat at my back disappears as Hans steps away.
