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But it’s the fighting back that makes the game worthwhile.
“Coercion? Really, Beck? I thought you were better than that. Guess I thought wrong.”
He’s not fazed in the least. “Oh, you just wait, sweetheart. I’ll be quite happy to show you how good I am.” His grin widens as he stabs the start button on the dashboard and the car roars to life. “Just say you need me.”
We both know I do, but I’m not saying it. Instead, I recline my seat and run my hands down the skirts of my dress, then back up to slide one strap off my shoulder. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I free one breast and tweak my nipple.
I’m rewarded with a dark churn in his eyes. “You’re going to make me wreck the car,” he warns.
“Well, you can either keep your eyes on the road or you can pull over and watch.”
He growls and focuses on the road, but I’m the one smiling viciously now. Watching him try not to watch me is intoxicating. “This is dangerous.”
“I thought you were oh-so good at protecting me, hm?” I taunt.
“I see another spanking in your very near future.” His voice deepens, turns smoky, and a slow purr works its way through my body.
“I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I’m not scared.” I free the other breast and pull both nipples as I arch my back and let loose a wanton moan.
Beck guns the car a hundred and fifty miles down the street, whips a screeching turn into the drive, and we come to a slamming halt in the garage.
“Oh, sweet angel, you haven’t seen anything yet.” He shuts off the car and leans over me to take a nipple into his mouth and flick it with his tongue.
“Oh, God” slips from my lips before I can remember to rein it in.
That’s all he needed to hear—for now. He lets it fall from his mouth with a wet pop and he rears back up to fix me with a dark glare.
“Get inside.”
I’m not the only one barely hanging on here.
I could be flippant and tell him to make me, but I want this as bad as he does. I shed my clothes on the way to the bedroom, leaving a trail on the stairs and down the hallway. When I fling his door open and leap onto the bed, he’s close behind.
He lands heavily and crawls up onto the mattress behind me.
“Spread your legs. Spread your legs and give it up. Tell me you need me, Sloan.”
The time for brattiness is over.
Now is the time for submission.
“I need you, Beck. Now. Please.” I add the please because I want him to know I mean it. That I’m not just saying it because he told me to. That I have consciously chosen to give him this.
He can have his victory.
I already won when I got him.
It doesn’t take much more than a couple swipes of his tongue for me to shatter. Hours and hours of anticipation goes up in flames as he laps up my wetness and I buck and writhe on his face. My moans echo around the room and I’m white-knuckling the sheets until my fists hurt.
Beck has no mercy. He bears down, tongue lashing, fingers pistoning in and out of me.
When the waves of passion and desire and ecstasy and need all ebb away, I breathe in deep and exhale slowly as limp heat spreads through me. “Oh, God, Beck.”
His grin spreads across his face. “Let round two commence.”
39
BECK
