“Bend over my desk.”
“Pardon?”
“I believe I was quite clear.” His eyes gleamed with challenge. “Face my desk and place your hands there. Do not move them unless I give you leave to do so.”
His sensual authority released a shivering excitement. With blinding honesty, she recognized that she’d been longing for this since their last encounter. Alone in her bed, she’d fantasized about him—about the two of them, bound by nothing but each other and the wicked passion that burned between them. He’d told her that her submission didn’t make her weak, and the knowledge of that paradox fanned the flames of her curiosity.
With him, she was discovering that passionwasa form of communication. With every intimate game they played, they opened up to one another a bit more. Trust was a two-way street. To gain his confidence, perhaps she would first have to demonstrate her own faith in their developing relationship.
On a shaky breath, she turned. Placed her bare palms flat on the hard surface.
“Good girl.” He removed her fichu, the scrap of lace-edged lawn landing carelessly on the desk. His breath gusted warmly against her bare nape. “Was that so difficult?”
“You try having someone order you about—”
The rest of the sentence died in her throat as he nipped the tender ridge between her shoulder and neck. Her head arched back at the scrape of his teeth, the scorching suction as he licked the small hurt with sinuous laps that made her fingers curl against the wood. From behind, his erection pressed into her, his arousal unmistakable despite the layers between them. His hands slid up her bodice, cupping and squeezing her aching breasts. When she moaned, he again suckled her neck with delicious force.
“You’re so responsive, sweeting,” he murmured. “Tell me, are you wet for me?”
Her cheeks flamed.
“Still shy, I see. There’s no room for modesty between us. Can you feel how hard you make me,”—he ground against her—“how big my cock is, how it throbs for you?”
Her eyelids grew heavy. Oh, she could feel him. She could.
He swept his arm across the desk, sending objects crashing pell-mell to the ground. “Lean down all the way.” With his hand at the small of her back, he pushed her upper torso flush against the desk. “Stay just like that,” he said.
With her palms and cheek supported by the cool wood, Emma felt a luxurious calm wash over her. That decadent stillness anchored her as he raised her skirts, layers of silk and linen skimming against her stockinged legs, her bare thighs. The material swished softly over her waist, and she shivered at the kiss of the cool air against her exposed backside.
“Christ, you’re lovely.” His reverent growl curled her insides with pleasure. “Spread your legs farther apart. Show yourself to me, pet.”
Shamefully stimulated, she widened her stance, feeling his rapacious gaze on her, on her wet, quivering sex. Heartbeats passed. His silence, his control stretched her nerves like a clothesline. She squirmed against the desk in helpless anticipation, his steely discipline maddening her, making her arousal unbearable. Why didn’t he touch her?
The realization came as a stroke of lightning. This was a battle, a contest of wills. And the way to victory was… surrender.
“Please.” The word left her in a whisper.
“Please what?”
“Touch me,” she begged.
He smoothed his palms over her buttocks, running them along her thighs, and she purred.
“My kitten likes to be petted.” His words were husky with approval. “Tip your pretty bottom up for me higher.”
Eagerly, she did so, gasping when his fingers slid through her intimate folds.
“Ach, Emma, you’re drenched. Coating my fingers with your sweet honey.”
His guttural tone, the emergence of his lilt, betrayed the fraying edge of his control, and thatthrilledher. Wantonly, she circled her hips against his touch. “It feels so good when you touch me.”
“I love petting your soft, wet pussy. Stroking your pearl.”
Her eyes squeezed shut as he followed through on his lusty litany, finding that spot of exquisite pleasure, rubbing and circling, winding the coil in her belly ever tighter. The muscles of her pussy fluttered, clutching on emptiness.
“Do you want more, Emma?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Give me more.”
