Physically and metaphorically.
“Malaki! What are you doing?” I hiss.
A deep chuckle vibrates Malaki’s chest as he carries me into the bathroom. He flicks the light on and gently places me on top of the vanity. I open my mouth to scold him for picking me up like I’m a toddler, but then he disappears beneath me and grabs my foot.
The pad of his thumb gently brushes against my skin, and I’m rendered speechless. He undoes the clasp around my ankle with his deft fingers, and it’s instant relief. A breathy noise flows out of my mouth, and Malaki snaps his eyes to mine. His jaw tightens as he slowly pulls the heel off. He wraps his hand around my foot and gives it a gentle squeeze before massaging the sore skin.
“Better?” His voice is raspy.
I nod once and try to pretend like my heart isn’t racing out of my chest.
I can’t breathe, my lungs tight with need.
Malaki moves to the other foot with purpose, his fingers making their way to the clasp around my ankle where they brush against my skin. Goosebumps appear on every surface of my body. I inhale shakily, and I know he notices. His cheek twitches, the blue color of his eyes deepening and playing tricks on my mind.
When our gazes snag, his pupils dilate, and that talented tongue of his slips out from behind his lips to wet them.
“There,” he says, dropping the other heel onto the floor.
I press my hands into the top of the vanity as hard as I can.
“Thank—” I can’t even speak. “Thank you.”
Malaki stays crouched below me on one knee with my ankle still in the palm of his hand. “Need help with anything else?”
Heat prickles my scalp.
Malaki’s thumb stops stroking the inside of my ankle, and our eyes catch. That tongue of his darts out again, and I’m suffocating on need.
“Reese?” The way he says my name has me wondering if the string tugging on my desire is tugging on his too.
I’m a ticking time bomb. One more hot touch and I’m bound to show him how desperate I am. All I hear is my heart beating inside my ears. The room narrows in on Malaki, and his hand travels little by little past my ankle and up to my calf.
He massages the muscle there, but I’m irrevocably focused on him.
A slow swallow moves down his throat, making his neck strain. His abs flicker as his fingers glide up to my knee. His hand leaving behind a trail of heat.
“You’re trembling,” he notes.
I exhale a shaky breath.
“Are you trembling for me, Dimples?” His voice comes out strained, and that’s exactly how I feel with the teasing touches against my leg.
He moves up even higher, his hand no longer visible. My dress hides the way his fingers ghost against my inner thigh, and I can’t take it anymore. I let my head fall backward and sigh wistfully.
How can a brief touch to my leg feel this good?
“You want me to stop?” he drags the words out slowly.
I make a noise that sounds an awful lot likeno.
“Thank God,” he chokes out.
Without hesitation, he grips my ankle and props it on top of his shoulder before quickly shoving my dress up to my hips. I grab the fabric, bundling the satin in between my fingers to give him more access.
He mutters from in between my legs, “I’ve been thinking about doing this all night.”
Cool air sweeps against me as he pulls my panties to the side.
