He licked his lips before speaking, glancing down at his erection and letting out a tiny, strained laugh. “Guess so.”
She couldn’t laugh with him or even smile. This beautiful man, stark naked in front of her, was no laughing matter.
“Good.” She stepped closer to him, with a first, brief pang of uncertainty, wishing, yet again, for something to filter the intensity of the moment. To protect her. “Don’t move.”
She waited for a beat, testing whether or not he’d do as she asked, giving him time to defy her. But he was still, utterly still, breath bated, waiting. For what came next. For her.
She circled him, and the view from behind was just as satisfying. He was massive, with muscles that should have intimidated but only turned her on. She reached a hand out, tentatively at first, to curve over one hard hip, and mumbled, “You’re so warm.”
He shuddered in response.
A patch of freckles congregated on his right shoulder blade, a sweet constellation. Stretched up on tiptoes, Uma managed to press her lips to the center of the cluster. He smelled perfect, like his bed—warm and clean and manly and sleepy, with a burnt metallic undertone. Her tongue painted a wet stripe across the dots, confirming that his taste matched his smell: elemental and delicious.
Standing behind him, she laid a trembling hand on his other hip and hesitated before leaning fully into his body, her head settling on his back with a sigh. She swayed against him, a strange, sexy slow dance that finally swung her back around to his front.
He reached for her, and she almost stepped back, loathe to give up control. But when he bent to touch his mouth to hers, it didn’t matter who was leading. The sparks between them had a life of their own. He kissed her long and slow until she was too breathless and had to break away. The noise of protest he made was gratifying, and Uma loved this feeling of being in charge. She tugged at his hips, pulling him closer to the bed. She sat, and he slid onto his knees between her legs.
Another kiss, hotter than the last—deeper and needier—had her clutching his hair and him holding her still and everything so close to combustion that she stopped it. She had to now, or it would be too late.
Catching her breath, she urged him back to standing, bringing his cock right there, fully hard and straining in her direction, and this was right. Ivan naked and Uma clothed, calling the shots.
Funny how it felt so scripted, all of this, like a choreographed dance she’d plotted out ahead of time, like she knew exactly what she was doing. And yet, from one moment to the next, she had absolutely no idea what was coming.
You’re a voyeur.The words echoed through her brain. They were both at the mercy of Uma’s long-denied, never-acknowledged, messed-up desires. Desires that pushed her to take hold of him and cant her face forward to rub against his erection.
Ivan’s entire body tightened at the contact, and his breathing grew loud and ragged above her. His hands stayed suspended by his sides, however, wanting but not daring to touch. The skin of his cock was soft against her cheek, softer still when it pulsed against her hot, dry lips. It occurred to her that this may be the first time she’d ever held a man like this, admired his body without the pressure of what was expected of her.
Ivan was letting her give rather than demanding anything of her.
Another shuddering breath from Ivan led her eyes inexorably up, up, up over miles of craggy terrain, to his face. He was crushingly handsome. The most beautiful man she’d ever seen, especially with that particular look. Lost, hungry, and close to losing control. His fingers, white at the knuckles, dug into his thighs.
It made Uma feel like pushing him further, to get a glimpse of the wild animal poised to emerge. Without moving her gaze from his, she bent again and ran her tongue down his length, leaving a wet path in her wake. His low, breathy moan spurred her to continue, wetting his entire cock from root to tip. She imagined how all that saliva would help her slide onto him. Not that she’d need it. Her underwear was drenched.
“Uma,” he whispered, “please.”
She smiled and shook her head, instead using the moisture to stroke her hand up and down, up and down. Every pull at him bumped the head against her lips and waiting tongue and brought him closer to the bed, so his knees were finally trapped between Uma’s.
This is power, she realized. From underdog to top dog in the blink of an eye. Having this big man at her mercy made her feel wicked and alive. He could break her with one hand, if he chose, and yet—
How easy would it be to pull Ivan atop her and let him take over? He’d yank her clothes off and see what lay beneath.
She stiffened at the possibility. Could he stand to look at her if she let him do that? What would he think, seeing another man’s ownership scrawled so blatantly across her skin?
What Joey had done, forcing her the way he had… He may have bested her physically, but he would never know this kind of power.Never.
Rather than dwell on the past, Uma pulled away.
“Touch yourself,” she ordered and was gratified when he lifted his hand. Slowly, he clasped himself, almost tentatively at first, which seemed so wrong for a big man like him.
“Tighter,” Uma scraped out over a throat that was raw with want. “Squeeze yourself tighter.”
Being in charge apparently changed her, made her into a tyrant.
“I want you so bad, Uma.”
She admired how big he was, his hand, his cock, his thighs.
“Use both hands, Ivan. Pretend you’re fucking me.”
