He pulls back at the sound, his darkened eyes searching mine. I try not to squirm at his assessing gaze.
“I’m all right,” I whisper. It’s half statement, half plea. My hand clenches in his hair as I try to urge him back to me. “Don’t stop, Bastien. Please.”
Let me lose myself in you.
His mouth moves down my jawline, languidly tasting my skin in a way that makes my knees buckle underneath me. Bastien’s arm tightens around me before he takes a step backward, dropping down into his chair. Startled, I blink down at him, sprawled across the leather with a smile built for sin tugging at his lips.
My hand clenches. “I want…”
“Take it,” he swears roughly. “Whatever you want, love.”
My hands reach out to carefully trace his face. The coarse beginnings of a beard feel rough beneath my fingers. Bastien closes his eyes with a sharp inhale as I follow a path across his cheek and down his neck to his white cotton shirt, the colour bright against his olive skin.
I tug at it gently, and his eyes flick to mine.
“Take this off, please?” Heat spreads across my cheeks.
Bastien doesn’t hesitate. His hands drop to the hem and he peels the shirt over his head, dropping it carelessly to the floor. My heart thuds as I look over his body.
A smattering of dark hair dusts his sculpted chest. He might be a technical genius, but my beta gives the rest of the pack a run for their money in the six-pack stakes. Following the trail of hair down past his waistline, my eyes fly up to his face, my cheeks burning as my stomach twists with sudden need.
He shakes his head wryly. “And you think I don’t want you?”
I guess I can see his point. Literally.
Swallowing, I look down again at the bulge in his pants, and he holds his arms out to me, understanding in his eyes.
“We’re playing by your rules, love. You stop when you want to.”
Slowly, I step forward until his arms gently enclose my middle. He draws his thumb down my back on either side of my spine in soothing lines, softening my tense muscles as he works until I’m a purring, boneless pile ofwant.
And I want more. More of this. More of him.
Pressing my palms to his chest, my fingers smooth the coarse hairs as his hands continue their magic. My nipples chafe against soft material, sensitive and aching, and Bastien pauses when I grab his arm, drawing it forward until I can press his hand to my breast and squeeze it, aching for relief.
“Ava.”
Leaning forward, I trace my tongue carefully along the seam of his lips, asking for entry.
“Please, Bastien,” I breathe, and his hand finally takes over and closes over the sensitive flesh, his fingers massaging my skin in just the right way.
My core clenches, each contraction of his hand sending a pulse straight to my clit as my eyes flutter closed. My scent spikes, hips twisting as my frustration leaks into the air, and Bastien picks up on it.
“I might not have a knot,” he whispers. “But I can still make you feel good, love.”
Curiosity thrums through me as he gently beckons me to him.
“Climb up here,” he murmurs. He pats his lap, and I bite my lip at the look he gives me, his grey eyes burning.
Slowly, I lift my knee and place it next to his thigh, repeating the process until I’m hovering over him, the heat of his skin warming the inside of my thighs. His hands brush my face, my neck, my arms, soothing me until I relax. Slowly, I sink down until his hardness brushes the dampness of my underwear, and we both suck in a breath.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I bury my face in his warm skin, breathing in the freshness of his scent as a spike of anxiety runs through me. Bastien’s strong arms move to my back, and he holds me gently.
“It’s okay,” he whispers in my ear. “We can stop. You’re incredible, Ava. Just say the word and we can take a step back.”
Frustration mounts inside me, but his words give me the push I need. I don’t want to take a step back from him. Iwantthis.
I will not let them take another damn thing.
