Grim dragged his knuckles along the crease of my thigh, justbarely grazing my pussy, gaze flashing to mine. For an instant I didn’t think. Ifeltthe intent in his eyes. He was going to make me regret that.
I couldn’t fucking wait.
“I don't belong to you,” I said, yet my voice came out breathy. “I’m not yours.”
Grim slid a finger inside me, dragging it back out too quickly.
“Ah, Rich Girl…” He held his finger in the air, glistening with me, and arched a brow. “I don’t give a shit who you think you belong to. I still own you in every way that counts.”
There was no going back.
Good,some dark part of me whispered.
I waited for him to fulfill the promise blazing in his eyes. Seconds dragged on to what felt like forever, Grim unmoving between my legs, grip tantalizingly close to where I needed it. His stare fixed on the center of me, hungry.
Then his eyes tore from my pussy, locking with mine. “Touch yourself.”
TWENTY-THREE
GEMMA
Touch myself?
Disappointment flashed briefly through me before I smothered it with a pillow. I wantedhimto touch me.
Well, I knew what he wanted—what everyone always wanted. I slid my hand slowly down the curve of my hip, over my lace panties. I started to moan, to arch?—
Grim tightened his grip on my thighs to the point of pain. I gasped.
“Stop that shit,” he said, eyes lifting to mine. Cold. Bored. “If I wanted fake, I’d turn on some porn, Rich Girl.” His grip loosened, thumb soothing the spot. “Do what you do when you’re alone. When no one is watching you.”
Fear stole my breath.
Dripped cold and icy down my spine.
For a few seconds I was frozen. Stuck between obeying and pushing him off me. What he wanted was too intimate. I couldn’t control that—controlhisreaction to me.
I tried to push him off. “Fuck this?—”
“Gemma.” His grip tightened, but it was the tone of his voice that had me looking back at him. It wasn’t cold, it was coaxing. Almost…warm. But there was a firmness in the tone that brooked no argument.
I swallowed. I was perfect Gemma Crowne, and perfect Gemma was perfect inallways. Horace didn’t wantme, he wanted the fantasy of me. The girl who moaned and told him he had a big cock, who always got off right when he did, and who never asked him to do anything differently.
So I said the truth.
The thing I was afraid of.
“You’ll get bored.”
A slight smirk twitched his lips.
“Bored?” He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the crease of my thigh. “Never.” His words disappeared into a growl, vibrating against my skin, twisting into my gut and dripping hot between my thighs.
He stood up and, for a split second, my heart dropped into my gut.
He’s going to leave.
He doesn’t want this?—
