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Finally, he released me with a heavy inhale and took a heavy step back. His gaze traveled down my body and up again, burning every place it landed.
“Skylar,” Brandon said, his voice low and almost menacing. “I said take off your clothes. I meant all of them.”
Something about the way he ordered me to do it made my skin prickle in anticipation. Mind game or not, I didn’t have a choice here. I had to do whatever he told me. And the hell if I wanted otherwise.
I quickly unlatched my bra, letting it fall to the ground while my breasts bounced free. His breath sharpened, but Brandon kept his eyes zeroed in on mine. I shimmied my panties down my legs and kicked them to join my other clothes.
I wasn’t perfect. My skin, despite its light-olive tone, was mostly covered with light freckles. While I had a nice flat stomach and decent muscle from my swimming habit, I had smallish breasts and enough wiggle to my parts that I wasn’t ever going to walk around in Daisy Dukes, no matter what my grandmother said.
But standing in front of Brandon, I felt brazen, confident, and sexier than ever before. His steely blue gaze, which was by this point heating up the entire room with its intensity, made me feel like I was the only person in the world he’d ever seen this way. Like nothing could ever make him look away from me.
“Sit back on the stool,” he said, his voice still low but menacing. “Spread your legs. We’re going to do this slowly this time.”
When I did so obediently, Brandon nodded in approval. He stood up in front of me, and I tilted my head back, practically begging for his touch, his taste. My whole body was humming for those deft fingers.
“Skylar,” he said, and I looked up to find his equally hungry gaze. “Show me how you touch yourself.”
I hesitated. I had never done that in front of someone before. “Why? You already do it just fine.”
Brandon frowned. Apparently, he really didn’t like being contradicted during foreplay. “Because I said so. Don’t be shy. Let me see.”
Somewhat reluctantly, I closed my eyes and slid my hand between my legs. My fingers quickly found the familiar rhythm I set for myself in those moments that had become a bit too common of late.
“Does it feel good?”
Wordlessly, I nodded, frowning in concentration as I tried to ignore the distractions: the occasional chill of the air, the cold steel rim of the stool, and the fact that Brandon was still fully clothed—yet again!—watching me pleasure myself.
“What are you thinking about?”
I didn’t say anything, just shook my head, frustrated. Goddamn it. It was the same with everyone. Men always thought it just took a quick tap or two and magically I’d come. It didn’t matter if I tried to explain it or not—no one ever seemed to understand that my mind was what controlled my orgasm, not my body, and that it was hard fucking work keeping all the distractions at bay.
And right now, I couldn’t. The spell had dissipated; this felt like work, not play.
“Do you need help?”
I opened my eyes to find Brandon standing next to me, naked except for his underwear, a pair of skin-tight boxer briefs that did nothing to hide his obvious erection. My fingers sped up involuntarily as I took in all six feet, four inches of perfection. I was right about the home gym. He was obviously a serious athlete, based on the sinewy muscles that curved around his shoulders, the stacked lines of a six-pack, the perfect V of muscle that disappeared under the cotton. He was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen.
Gently, he pulled me off the stool, slid behind me, then rearranged me between his legs. He slipped his arm between my legs to cover my hand with his.
He slid his mouth up my throat and nipped at my ear. “Relax. Keep going and just listen to my voice.”
Obediently I leaned my head back onto his shoulder and closed my eyes again, basking in the feel of his stubbled cheek drifting over my throat as his fingers moved comfortably with mine.
“Do you remember that first night in your apartment?”
I nodded. How could I forget?
“Do you remember how I laid you down? How I tasted you?”
My fingers moved a little faster, applied a little more pressure as I recalled his mouth. The hot wet of it. The delicacy of his tongue. The deftness of his fingers.
“You tasted so good, Skylar.” Brandon trailed his nose around the shallow lines of my skin, around my ear, which he bit again lightly, causing me to moan. “So fucking sweet. I could have eaten you all damn night, baby.”
My hips jerked against our hands as he added his own pressure, broad fingers moving with mine.
“Do you want to hear what I really wanted to do to you?”
I melted against his body, lost in the rhythm of our hands and the sound of his voice. Unable to do anything but hum in approval.
