“I’ve overcome the mountain, so you’re free to be as dominant as you want.” She strings her words together at record speed.
I nearly choke on the sip of juice that I just took. Harlow should be proud that she’s caught me slightly off guard.
Setting my glass back on the table, I readjust my body then grab the arm of Harlow’s chair and yank her closer to me so she’s nearly sitting by the corner of the table.
“Why would you think I want to dominate the fuck out of you?” I recognize the heat in my voice because she’s cracking that box of want that I’ve been keeping locked lately. The kind of want where I demand she opens her legs while I pin her arms over her head. I lead the way, and she obeys. Flip her, slide into her, nibble her skin, and spank her. That’s the Pandora’s box that she’s telling me to open.
My eyes, I can imagine, are forming a gleam full of warning.
A sexy smile ghosts her mouth. “Because of the way your hands hold my hips, the way you pistol your way inside of me, going hard, but then the moment you realize, you slow down because it’s me. More importantly, when I first met you, well, you had this devilish appearance. I don’t think I’ve contorted an unrealistic image in my head.”
My cock twitches at her words.
I bring a hand across my jaw. “And if I say it’s true?” I challenge.
She scoffs a gentle breath. “Then I’d answer to do it. I want to… do it all, because for some reason you dropped into my life, and it feels as though the chemistry is uncontrollable, and I just… you lead the way tonight. I enjoyed last night, and it was special in a way that not many people will understand.” She touches my elbow, and I swallow because that box is now partly open. “You’re in control now.”
Her eyes haven’t blinked once, and I can tell that she’s dead serious.
I click my tongue on the top of my mouth as I consider my next move. But my body moves of its own accord, and my hand slips under the table to quickly find her knee. Our eyes lock, and my fingers begin to trail up her leggings because this woman slays in a long sweater over a thin fabric that’s doing a half-ass job of warming her legs.
Her breath hitches slightly because she doesn’t anticipate that my fingers slide straight up to the middle of her thighs, and I feel her warmth.
I bring my lips closer to her ear. “Harlow, you need to be 100% sure, because sometimes I can be gentle, but sometimes, so help me, I want to be demanding as hell until we make one another come not just once during the night or day, and you best believe I have no problem taking you behind a tree or on a beach. As much as you’re free, I want to shackle you down, and I’m beginning to think it’s because you drive me so damn crazy and should be punished for that.”
Harlow’s eyes blaze and her mouth opens, her cheeks rising, which tells me that she’s satisfied with everything I say.
I give her no opportunity to answer, and instead, I circle a finger around her pussy, not caring that it’s covered. My head lolls slightly to the side. “My guess is that you’re soaked, because you feel damp. Is that what you are?”
She nods slowly.
“Words.”
“I’m soaked,” she confirms as she nibbles on her bottom lip.
I kiss her cheek. To anyone in here it would look innocent and sweet, but inside me it’s sweltering a desire to ignore everyone in here and take Harlow right here on the table from behind.
Squeezing her thigh, I wish I could make her come right now, but I see our waiter walking toward us, which is why my hand returns to her knee, and I throw on an overdone smile and straighten my back to welcome our interrupter.
“Eggs Benedict with a side of bacon for the sir.” A sound escapes from Harlow because she has a dirty mind, and our dear clueless twenty-year-old waiter has no clue that his choice of title means something else.
The waiter’s face turns partly puzzled before he sets down the other plate with a returned smile. “The Belgian waffle with fruit and crème brûlée topping. Enjoy, you two.”
The moment he turns his back, I bug my eyes out at Harlow. “Trust me, I hate the word sir.”
Her face flushes before she sighs and creates space between us by scooting her chair back into place, causing my hand to fall from her knee.
“Okay, so… you agree with my request?”
I stare at her for a second more than I should, my gaze turning to sweltering and determined. “It’s not a request that you made, it was a plea.” She gently shakes her head, thinking I’m joking. But my face remains serious. “It was. I much prefer begging, though. Tonight, Harlow, if you’re sure—because seriously, you’re unleashing a side of me that’s a bit heated—then yes, you will have your hands firmly planted against a surface while I fuck you from behind.”
“I am sure. Sometimes unleashing something only brings more passion.” She states it so simply.
But my mind meanders to the underlying meaning. Because normally, it’s a few-days fling or a mutually beneficial situation. In this case, this is a longer commitment because I don’t see this thing between us ending anytime soon, nor do I seem to mind.
She’s giving me permission. I was beginning to fear that I would have to compromise when it came to us, in the bedroom at least. Now she’s erased that boundary, which means there are no boxes unchecked except for that not-so-little factor of distance and unclarity of what the hell we are.
Nonetheless, our possibilities are now a little more endless.
