“That seems...” I gasped as his teeth grazed my collarbone, “unnecessarily harsh.”
His hand slid up my thigh, bunching my dress around my waist. “Those are the terms, sweetheart. Take them or leave them.”
The smirk playing on his lips told me he was enjoying this power play far too much. Two could play that game.
“Fine. But the same goes for you, Gable.” I reached between us, palming him through his pants. “One groan and I walk.”
The surprise in his eyes was worth it, quickly replaced by something darker. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be lucky if you can walk in a straight line.”
His demanding mouth crashed into mine. I reached for his belt, but he caught my wrists, pinning them above my head with one large hand.
“I play first,” he whispered, voice rough.
My retort dissolved into a silent gasp as his free hand slipped beneath my underwear. His eyes never left mine, watching every reaction flicker across my face as his fingers explored.
“Remember,” he whispered, “not a sound.”
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, fighting every instinct to moan as his thumb circled my clit. Shit, I was already soaking wet. His satisfied expression told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
“You’re not playing fair,” I whispered, voice strained. “You can’t go straight for the clit.”
“Never said I would play fair.” He slid a finger through my folds before slipping it inside. God, I was going to lose this game. Shit, I was definitely going to lose this game as a second one joined the first. His fingers curled inside me, and I had to clamp my teeth on my lower lip to stay silent. “You’re already struggling, and we’ve barely started.”
He was damn right. My breathing came in short, desperate pants, each exhale threatening to turn into a sound that would end this game before it really began.
A knock at the door froze us both.
“Ms. Landry? Mr. Gable?” Penelope’s voice came through the wood. “Are you in there? The string quartet has arrived.”
Hudson’s hand remained exactly where it was, his eyes locked with mine in silent challenge. His fingers moved slightly, and my eyes widened in warning. His palm ground against my clit, and I had to close my eyes, letting my head fall back against the wall as I tried to focus on anything but Hudson’s fingers.
“We’ll be right out,” he called, voice impressively steady despite the bulge straining against his zipper. “Just finalizing the processional order.”
“Of course. They’re setting up in the garden when you’re ready.”
Footsteps retreated. I released the breath I’d apparently been clinging to.
“That was close,” I whispered.
“Too close?” he asked, giving me an out.
In answer, I freed one hand from his grip and reached for his belt again. This time, he let me.
“Lock the door,” I ordered.
A flash of approval crossed his face. He stepped away just long enough to turn the lock, then returned, spinning me to face the wall.
“Hands flat,” he instructed, pressing my palms against the cool surface. “Don’t move them.”
The rustle of his belt and zipper behind me sent anticipation spiraling through my body. Something crinkled, and I bit my lip with a wide grin.
“I can’t believe you expected this to happen.”
“What do you mean?”
“You brought a damn condom,” I hissed.
Hudson’s low chuckle vibrated through me. “I brought more than one.” His hands gripped my hips, readjusting the skirt of my dress, fingers digging into flesh as he positioned me exactly where he wanted. The heat of his hardness pressed against me.
