At first, his hands move lazily down my neck and shoulders, like the breeze coming through the open double doors. But soon they grow frantic, mapping every inch of my body in reach.
He grabs my ass and pulls me closer, and I gasp. I can feel him. Hard and ready. I grind against him, but he breaks the kiss, letting my moan drift between us.
Adam stares at me, his features filled with shock and lust. There are no words exchanged as his thumb grazes my swollen lower lip.
I don’t want him to change his mind, and I pull him back in, drowning in the kiss, grasping at every taste of him.
Not even the chilly night air, stirring the scent of wood and salt around us, can cool me down.
With one hand tangled in my hair, he pulls me back and drags his lips down my jaw and neck, murmuring into my skin, “Tell me you want me to stop.”
It’s too late for that.
“You said I shouldn’t tell lies.”
In one movement, he kicks the door shut and lifts me, setting me on the workbench. He towers over me, standing between my legs, hands braced on the inside of my thighs, his fingers spread, his thumb nearly grazing the seam of my jeans.
I rock my hips, chasing the pressure, but he doesn’t let me have it.
His hair is disheveled, pupils dilated, eyes close to black. “I don’t have it in me to be gentle.”
I don’t want that from him. It would make us something we’re not.
“I didn’t ask you to be,” I say clearly while I make quick work of the buttons of his shirt, sliding over warm skin, down his chest, then lower, until I hook my fingers into his waistband and pop the top button.
For all his talk, he seems hesitant all of a sudden.
“Show me,” I whisper, sliding my hand inside his briefs, stroking him, feeling him tense beneath my touch. “Everything you want to do to me.”
I twist my wrist and palm his head, spreading the moisture, and he chokes back a broken groan.
“I want to feel it.” I might sound a bit desperate, but I don’t care, I’m too far gone.
His forehead drops to mine, breath coming harsh and uneven. His hands flex on my thighs. Then he hooks his arms under my knees and drags me to the edge, kissing me until I’m dizzy.
When he unzips my jeans, his fingers brush the silk fabric of my underwear, deliberate and slow. He ghosts his hand up to my breast, teasing over the nipple, until it hardens beneath his touch. He pinches it. I gasp, and he catches the sound in his mouth.
Then he’s back between my legs, fingers tracing, rubbing circles, lower, closer to where my panties are soaked. His quiet growl of approval only feeds the fire.
The pressure builds. His mouth hovers over mine, barely touching, exchanging breaths. I’m right there, I can feel the wave building, swelling until…he pulls away and I’m left grasping at nothing.
A frustrated sob claws up my throat. He smiles and eases his palms under the back of my pants, tugging them lower.
“Something the matter, Jackie?” His large hands cup my ass, fingers pressing into my flesh.
He really wants me to beg. Is this what he likes now, or is it just for me?
Any other time, maybe I’d stop to ask myself why it’s so easy to surrender to him. Give him complete control. I like to have an iron-fist grip on every aspect of my life. But I keep giving him power I never let anyone else have.
My body is too coiled with need. Answering for me.
“Please.” I whisper another broken whimper against his neck, pride dissolving. I hate how pathetic I sound. “Please, touch me.”
The hand grazing the curve of my ass is gentle, but his next words aren’t. “You don’t deserve slow and sweet.” The dull laugh that vibrates out of him sounds more like he’s talking to himself. “Turn around.”
Shock and heat twist in my bloodstream, the taste of anticipation heavy on my tongue. When I take too long to comply, the sharp sting of a slap to my buttock echoes through the small space and travels down to my core.
“Do you need another reminder to behave?” His tone is deceptively calm, but the flex in his jaw has me quickly turning around.
