I tighten my grip on her throat, harder than she expected, and her eyes bulge. Using my flat hand on her stomach, I tug her roughly back into me until her ass is flush with my dick. Then I grind my hips forward against her, my cock throbbing from the sensation.
A nearly silent whimper vibrates beneath my fingers wrapped around her throat, and I roll my hips into her once more, rocking her against the table in front of us.
“You wanted me to remind you, Little Cupid? Hmm?” I growl. “It will be my pleasure.”
She stares up at me with a look that reminds me of a baby deer. Unsure. Nervous. Frozen in place while looking into the eyes of a predator double its size.
I can’t help but be reminded of her reaction earlier,when she ran into my unmasked self at the arena. She didn’t cower or back down, but I could practically see the goose bumps rising on the tops of her arms and the hairs on her neck standing on end. She was on edge, nervous, unsure of her next step.
Her words from earlier echo in my mind.An overcompensation for the way she truly feels.“I’d have no problem dating a hockey player. As long as they weren’t you.”
I just don’t know who she was trying to convince more—me or herself.
Still, there it was … that undeniable heat between us, blazing deep inside our souls. I know she felt it. I saw it, burned into the soft flush of her cheeks.
As much as she wants to deny it, she’s intobothversions of me.
Maybe she recognized something similar in my voice or the way I moved, but I find that hard to believe, or she would’ve called me out on the spot. She’s way too strongheaded to play along knowingly.
For now, with the mask over my face, she wants my touch, and I’llhappilygive it to her. But I’m also going to show her what happens when she’s a brat.
My fingers trail down her stomach, her hip, and her thigh until they reach the hem of her dress, slipping just beneath the seam. Dropping my shoulder enough to stroke the inside of her thigh, I palm her silky skin and force her legs apart, balancing her weight with my hand around her throat.
“Let’s see just how much you enjoyed toying with me … challenging me.” I sweep my fingers across the soaking wet lace. “Such a fuckingbrat. You’re drenched.”
Her pupils dilate, her breath quickening as I glide two fingers up her center, resting them against her clit, sheathed beneath the lace.
I apply the slightest pressure and circle the bundle of nerves. Her eyes roll into the back of her head, and she melts in my embrace.
She’s getting off on this as much as I am. The thrill. The possession. The unknown. She’s as corrupted as me, and I fucking love it.
I circle her core over and over, tantalizingly slow. Her breathing increases, and her eyes flutter closed.
The tip of her heel drags along the floor as her thighs clench together. My fingers work her closer to her orgasm as music thumps around us.
“Open your eyes,” I demand, squeezing my thumb and fingers on her neck.
She obeys, her lust-blown pupils filling her usually bright-blue orbs. Helpless. Desperate. The only two words to describe the upturned pinch of her brows.
It takes everything in me to not rip the mask off and bury my face in her pussy until I’m gasping for air. That’s one downfall of this disguise and this night. If we were at her house, I could tie her up and blindfold her. I could lift the mask and lose all control with her.
Instead, I’m losing control in a whole other way. This was supposed to be about teaching her a lesson. I wanted to bend her over the table and imprint every ridge and line of my hand on her bare ass while I edged her without release.
But instead, with the way she’s looking up at me right now, I can’t fathom doing anything other than making hercome harder than she ever fucking has while she cries out for me.
Slipping my hand beneath the lace, I slide two fingers through her wetness. “Is this what you wanted when you were acting like a little brat? Egging me on. Teasing me. You wanted me to touch you, own you?”
She nods in my grip without muttering a word.
“Tell me.”
A beat of uncertainty passes before she wets her lips and murmurs, “Yes.”
“You like disobeying me, don’t you?” I plunge my fingers into her, pumping them in and out torturously slowly.
Her hand slithers over mine, gripping my forearm like a brace for support as I work her closer to the edge.
“Tell. Me.” Suddenly, I freeze in place, refusing to give her what she wants until she uses her words.
