I obliged but stumbled halfway through.
“Fucking hell!” I cursed.
“Let me show you from a different angle,” Tori said patiently.
She crouched down, putting her hands on the floor. Her torso twisted, her hips slid and her arms moved as if throwing an invisible punch.
“See how my weight never tips forward? That’s what you need. Your brain wants to plow, but what you actually need is redirection.”
I sank onto the edge of the bed and watched her move, hands braced on the carpet, one knee down, hips low — perfect.
“You’re staring.” She quirked an eyebrow.
“Nah. Reckon I’m being a good student,” I quipped, though my chest was tight and my brain was screaming at me tofocus on the drill, idiot.
“Uh-huh.” Tori was clearly unimpressed, but she didn’t move.
She brushed her hand against my knee, almost casually. The warmth of her silky-smooth skin sent a ripple through me.
Heat crept up my neck. I shouldn’t be noticing the curve of her spine, the way her hair fell across her shoulder, or how her top clung to her tits and showcased her stiff little nipples.
No matter how hard I tried to ignore it, the proximity, the warmth, the scent of her shampoo and the brush of her hands were irresistible.
Tori straightened up and sat back on her heels. Suddenly, the realization of her kneeling in front of me registered: her knees were under mine, her body low, yet still perfectly controlled and impossibly intimate.
“It’s really all about control.” She shrugged.
Forcing out a breath, I tried to focus on her words and retaining the drill but failed spectacularly because there she was, kneeling in front of me. I was acutely aware of every line and curve and of every subtle movement.
“Control,” I repeated, my voice sounding more gravelly than I intended.
Tori tilted her head, watching me, still impossibly close. I registered how low she was, practically at eye level with my torso.
“Yeah, control.”
Was it just my imagination, or was she moving closer?
Completely lost in those impossibly green eyes, I was unable to break the connection. She had me under her spell, and fuck if I didn't love it.
“I know a thing or two about control,” she continued in a low, sultry whisper.
“Oh yeah?”
The warmth of her palms on my thighs made my muscles tense in anticipation.
“Yeah.” Her lips curled into the faintest hint of a smirk. “Want me to show you?”
“Please,” I ground out, my jaw clenched as I fought to stay in control of my own body.
With slow, deliberate movements her hands worked their way up toward my hips.
“Aww, I like it when you’re so desperate.”
I grunted as her hair fell forward as she moved further up, tickling my skin with its tips and making my abs contract with a desperate need.
She looked up at me, kneeling between my legs, her mouth mere breaths away from the prominent outline of my rigid length beneath my shorts. What a fucking sight.
“Any man would be desperate for you when you look at him like this.”
