I’m not sure I could survive that and remain a gentleman. “Not at all.” Leaning in, I brush my lips over the shell of her ear. “I’d have you kneel up on the bed. Face down.”
She sucks in a tiny breath. “I can’t?—”
“You can. And if you’re honest with yourself, you’d admit that part of you wants to.”
“No.” She shakes her head fast, hair falling around her face. But her traitorous eyes flick to the bulge straining my zipper.
I know what she’s picturing. She’s wondering how it’ll feel as my hand lands on the swell of her ass. The heat. The inevitable pain.
But she has no idea about the way she’ll drip for me afterward. Or the temptation to ask for more. “To be clear, you’re not being coerced. This is strictly your choice.”
“No. It’s really not. You or security.”
Acknowledging her point, I incline my head. “The door’s over there. Use it, and you’ll never hear from me again.” Now I’m a dirty fucking liar. I’ll never let her go.
There’s silence that’s heavy and unbroken except for the whisper of the penthouse’s air-conditioning. “What will it be?”
Seraphina exhales hard, and I know it’s more from resignation than fear.
“You can walk out. Or you can pay your debt.”
With more than a little touch of defiance, she meets my gaze. “I’m keeping my panties on.”
I grin. Good girl. “That will be your only protection from me, little troublemaker.”
For a few moments, she remains where she is before exhaling in annoyance and moving her body into position, kneeling, offering her rear to me.
Fuck.
My cock throbs like it never has before. “I’m waiting.”
“For what?”
When I don’t respond, she glances over her shoulder. I fold my arms.
“For you to bunch your skirt around your waist.”
“You’re an overbearing ass, Mr. Blackwell.”
I don’t react. Frankly that’s the nicest thing anyone has said about me in the last six months.
Facing away from me, she lowers her forehead to the bedding. Then she lifts her skirt, inch by inch, slowly revealing her shapely thighs.
As my mouth dries, she bares the swell of her ass to me.
Her panties are silky, a little scrap of pink that are already damp.
Well, well, Seraphina Hollis.
I palm the curve of her ass. It’s as smooth as it is soft. Fucking perfect. “Are you my good girl?”
“No!”
At her protest, I press a hand to her upper back. “But you are. So very good.”
“Fuck off, Mr. Blackwell.”
I laugh. Damn, her fierceness is something I need in my life.
