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“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“And I’m sorry your husband doesn’t care enough about you to respond to messages.”
Ouch.
It wasn’t like that. Heneverleft me waiting like this.
He put the phone down where I could see it, inches from my nose, resting one side on the edge of the blanket so that it tipped toward me. I considered calling Valor again, but Loïc’s hands were moving to the lower edges of my ass, perilously close to areas that were off-limits to any masseuse. He didn’t try to take advantage of the situation, and moved on to work at the top of my thighs.
I tried not to groan with how frustrated I was. I didn’t want him to touch me sexually without talking to Valor first, but oh my god, did I want him to touch me. His hands worked on my leg muscles and my body turned to absolute jelly.
By the time he turned me to my back, I was limp, but I wanted him with shameful intensity. I let him arrange my limbs the way he wanted them. I gazed up at him, admiring his bone structure and his odd eyes. When his gaze met mine, there was warmth there, like affection.
“Is this okay?”
My lips parted to tell him things had already gone too far, but my gaze caught on his, and I was under his spell as his magical hands moved along my collarbone, stroking there rather than massaging, as though he was enjoying the feel of my skin.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” I said, my voice breathy. Had I just said that? I didn’t remember thinking, let alone planning to say it. My belly trembled with the force of my frustration.
I could feel the stiff points of my nipples pointing at the ceiling, begging for his hands, and my thighs were parted in accidental invitation. His gaze was locked to my face.
“You’ve become something of an obsession for me.” His lips twisted. “That isn’t a compliment. If anything, it’s a warning.”
He kept waving his red flags in my face, but it still felt flattering. This was so confusing. How could giving Valor what he wanted like this feel so…wrong, and yet so good? This had been easier when he’d been with us.
“Are you dangerous?”
“Most people are, if given reason to be.”
“I doubt there’s anything dangerous about me.”
“And yet, you could easily destroy two men.”
I felt myself blushing again, dang him. I didn’t think I’d blushed this much since the two times we’d been together, and then a long time before that.
“So, are you going to ask me to touch you, or are we going to stop here for tonight?”
I was hungry for him, and although I knew I could live without him getting me off, the idea of going to bed frustrated, or even fixing it myself, was enough to make me whimper.
My brain pumped the brakes, and frustrated tears burned my eyes.
He stroked my hair back from my face, leaning in closer, nailing me to the table with that wolf’s gaze of his. “I know you’re struggling with this decision, but we both know it’s what Valor wants.”
He brought his hand to my face and caressed my cheek. It was enough to make my heart do a little flip-flop.
“Let me make you come, and I’ll go away.” His eyes dazzled me, like chips of ice in sunlight. “I love watching you blush while you try to figure out how to ask for what you want.”
He kissed me, and I responded with more lust than I should have, so needy that my body was trying to shut off my brain. He stroked my skin from waist to rib cage, then circled my breasts like they were no man’s land. My nipples ached to be touched—hell, to be abused. Gentleness wasn’t something I normally craved.
“Maybe I should try to call him again.”
He chuckled softly and stroked around my breasts again then took hold of my pierced nipples with cruel fingers. I gasped in surprise and arched into it, but rather than easing off, he increased the pressure until it hurt, making me whine and beg, then increased it more until I gave a quiet scream of pained ecstasy. He let go, and I found myself panting.
I opened my mouth to tell him to stop, but he pinched my nipple again, and stroked my stomach gently with the other hand, making it tremble like a snare drum. His hand drifted downward, where he spread my pussy lips with finger and thumb. I became an absolute mess from the feel of cool air on my overheated clit.
“You poor thing. This looks like it needs a massage even more than the rest of you.”
