Boxes hit the floor as boots squeaked in their haste to leave. The door slammed closed behind them, and Becks just barely kept from jumping.
In the same moment that Ghost rounded on Becks, he pulled his knife from his pocket. “You have to the count of ten to strip or I cut those clothes off you. Can’t bitch and complain they’re your only clothes now,” he gestured towards the ceiling.
Becks’ curvy form filled out his Navy shirt beautifully. Her jeans were one of the pairs he’d bought her Sunday morning and had delivered to the hotel, and her heels were from her weddingoutfit. She claimed they were comfortable, and who was he to argue when they looked fucking hot on her.
He saw her chest rise and fall rapidly at her surprise, but otherwise she did not move. Keeping the blade at his side, he also stayed in place. “One.”
Becks’ eyes widened. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly,” he growled. “Two.”
She looked around the room like she was contemplating running.
Ghost’s jaw ticked as he realized he wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea of hunting her. “Try it,” he goaded. “I dare you. Three.”
Becks took a step back from him, placing her right at the edge of the couch.
“Four.”
As if realizing she was running out of time, Becks’ hands went to the bottom hem of his Navy shirt. Though they shook as she lifted it over her head, he could see that she was not scared. Good. Fear was not his intent, and the way her eyes dilated and her breath came out in ragged gasps, she was as aroused as he was.
The shirt hit the floor between them.
“Good girl,” he praised. Then he pointed the knife at her bra. “Keep going. Five.”
Becks lifted her hands to her chest, and Ghost was surprised to realize that the clasp was in the front. He kept his face blank as he thanked the universe he made her undress herself, instead of him fumbling to do it.
The bra hit the floor next, but he refused to be distracted by Becks’ large tits. They were fucking beautiful, and he wanted nothing more than to worship them. But he had a point to make and couldn’t risk getting sidetracked.
“Six.”
Becks hastily sat on the couch so she could undo the straps of her heels.
He gave her an extra second to remove them because she was making an effort before he said, “Seven.”
Getting to her feet, Becks put her hands to her jeans and undid the button.
“Eight.”
Her eyes widened slightly and she made a small hiccupping noise as she hurried to wiggle them down over her hips.
“Nine.”
She stepped out of her jeans and dropped her panties in a smooth motion.
Ghost stopped his countdown, and put the pocketknife away. “Cutting it close, don’t you think?” He approached her, cupping his pussy. “Just as I thought,” he smiled, smug. “You’re soaked, baby.”
Becks raised her chin, refusing to be cowed. He liked that, her spunk. He might push her and win, but she still pushed back. “You know damn well that your bossiness turns me on, and it has nothing to do with the fact that I am not some damsel, Ghost.”
He breached her folds, feeling the wet heat surround his fingers. “You’re right,” he agreed, rubbing slow circles over her clit. “You’remy wife.”
Her voice shook as she argued, “You say that like that gives you power over me. What happened to being my humble servant?”
Ghost watched her eyes carefully. “You think I’m not? Carrying you, washing you, cooking for you, providing for you…? Would you rather wait on me? I’ll sit my ass on the couch and you can bring me a beer before you go scrub the kitchen floor?”
Becks swallowed hard, and when she started to sway, lifted a hand onto his forearm to help steady her. “That’s… That’s not what I’m saying.”
He pressed forward, dipping his middle finger inside her wet cunt. “You think I do these things for you because I see you as weak? Some helpless woman who’s not strong enough, so Ihaveto do these tasks for you? Do you think I look at you and roll my eyes because now I have the ol’ ‘ball and chain’ that’ll threaten my weak masculinity?”
