“Try me.”
Her eyes flash with heat, and we stare at each other between the luxury clothes while I fist my hands so I don’t undress her right here.
I don’t know how long we eye-fuck each other before the shop assistant clears her throat, and we jerk away from each other.
“Do you want to join me in the changing room, or do you need a time-out?” Cora grins, eyeing the tent in my pants.
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Can you be quiet?”
The earlier sensual energy sparks. Cora looks around and toward the changing rooms. “Depends.”
“On?”
“Can you be fast?” She lifts her chin.
“I take as much time as I want with you, Coraline.” I lean in, yanking her to me, my mouth over her ear. “Do you want me to fuck you with my tongue, my fingers, or my cock?”
She grips my shoulders. “Your choice, young man.”
Fuck, I hate it when she calls me that. Turning, she crooks her finger, beckoning me to follow with a smile.
A smile that makes me forget she keeps pointing out the age difference.
A smile that has me walking through the store with a fucking boner.
A smile of sin and promise.
It hits me along with a realization: I may think I’m in charge here, but this woman stripped me of my free will.
Unintentionally.
Unequivocally.
Undeniably.
“Which one should I try first?” she asks, standing in the entrance to the changing room.
I step into her space, pushing her inside, and close the door. “I don’t fucking care what you wear… What you don’t wear, on the other hand…” I take another step.
Her breath hitches. “I need to take off my shirt and my jeans to try these.”
I grip her shirt and yank. Cora gasps as the fabric falls apart, and her body collides with mine. “I can take them off for you.”
Our gazes hold as the world goes still. Absolutely still, for a hungry moment. I lock the door, and when I look back at Cora, she is unzipping her jeans.
“Did you choose, Coraline?” My voice is low and gravely. I’m barely hanging onto my control.
“I haven’t tried anything yet.” Her chest heaves.
“We’re buying all the clothes. I’m talking about fucking, sweetheart.” I whip her around. “Hands on wall.” She obeys, and I lean over her, kissing her shoulder. “Cock, tongue, or fingers?”
She moans.
“You promised to be quiet,” I whisper into her ear.
