His hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back with a roughness that has me gasping. My lips tear from his, breath ragged.
“Why would you let another man do that to you?” he growls.
I stare up at him, matching his heat. “Apparently, it’s a rite of passage or something.”
His nostrils flare. “Did you plan this?”
“What?”
“The strippers. The timing. That text you sent me, saying you missed me. Were you trying to make me jealous?”
I blink.
Honestly?I had thought about it, but never imagined he’d actually show up.
I smirk before I can stop myself.
“Are you smirking at me?” His voice drops, lethal and quiet.
I bite my bottom lip, smirking again.
“Dee, be serious. Why are you trying to make me jealous?”
His tone softens slightly, and I feel it, the dominance flickering.
No. Not now.
“Yes,” I say. “That was the plan. To make you jealous. So you’d get mad and fuck some sense into me.”
His grip on my hair intensifies, pulling my head back further and exposing my throat to him. “You know I don’t like games, Dee.”
“Then punish me for being a bad girl,” I whisper, heart hammering, clit throbbing.
He groans and brings my face back in line with his. His eyes have shifted. They are no longer cold, but burning with heat and something else…
Love.
“Dee,” he breathes, kissing me softly.Ah, fuck it! Too softly.
“Fuck me, Colt,” I moan against his lips, trying to draw him deeper.
But then he pulls back, and I freeze.
“I’m not going to fuck you, Dee.”
The words slice through me like ice.
“What?” I ask, incredulously.
“If I gave you what you wanted, it wouldn’t be much of a punishment, would it?” he says, voice low but firm. “So instead, I’m going to make love to you. Slow. Deep. Torturous. No dominance. Just love. Nothing rough. Not until I know you’re ready for it again.”
He means it.
Every. Damn. Word.
And I hate how much I still want him, even if it’s not the way I crave.
But I’ll take this man however I can.
