He’s letting me.
Nico, the man who took control the second he saw me at the auction, the man who held me down, the man who ordered me to come, is letting me set the pace.
Why?
The question hangs in the air, unspoken, a silent third person in the bed with us.
Is it a test?
The kiss between us is hungry, desperate. I rock against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through me. His erection, hot and hard against my center, is a promise of what’s to come.
But it’s a promise he’s not in a hurry to keep.
His hands are on my hips, holding me, but not guiding me. His thumbs are stroking slow, maddening circles on my skin, a touch that’s both possessive and patient.
And it’s driving me crazy.
I want more.
I need more.
His hands slide from my hips to my back, his fingers tracing the delicate line of my spine. I shudder and feel the goosebumps rising in the wake of his touch.
I melt, pliant and soft, into his arms.
I want so badly for him to roll me over and show me what it means to be his. Give me what I really want. What I crave.
I pull back at that thought.
No, that's not what I want. This is what I want. Both of us on equal footing.
I sit up, hands braced on his chest, and look down at him. So damn handsome with his dark eyes, the stern set of his mouth.
A mouth that can bring me immense pleasure or reduce me to a whimpering mess.
His hands slide down to my hips, fingers digging into my flesh. Finally, I think.
Finally.
But he just rests his hands on my hips, doesn't guide them.
Well, maybe it's time to tempt him.
I lean back and reach for the hem of my tank top, my movements slow and deliberate.
His dark eyes, filled with heat, watch each movement. I’ve seen that look on him before. It’s predatory and possessive. A look that says I’m a prize he’s just won and he’s about to claim his reward.
My breath hitches.
I pull the tank top over my head, my hair tumbling down around my shoulders, and toss it aside.
The cool air hits my skin, and my nipples pebble, aching for his touch.
His gaze drops to my breasts, and the raw hunger in his eyes is so intense it feels like a physical touch.
I want him to take one into his mouth, suck until I'm squirming and begging—
No.
