“One,” I whisper, knowing he can hear me.
It’s not necessarily the action that arouses me, although I don’t mind it. It’s more the emotion behind it. I can feel him slipping—letting himself go, but at the same time, he remains in control and poised.
He’s a master at this game, and now I’m his willing student, ready to learn.
Another hit pulls me from my thoughts. The heat of his body leaves me and I whisper again. “Two.”
“You’re doing so good, amore,” he praises, dropping to his knees.
His lips find the tender spot behind me. Slowly, he kisses, sucking my sore skin into his mouth and massaging it with his tongue. But just as soon as it starts to feel better, he stops and rises to his feet again.
Another hit shakes me. I grit my teeth. “Three.”
I stay bent over, stock-still, waiting for his next command, but it doesn’t come for what seems like ages. My ragged breaths are the only thing that fill the silence until the buckle of his belt clings against itself as he undoes it.
“Stand up.”
I lift my head and push my body upright with my chest, but I don’t turn around. Instead, I stand straight with my chin tilted high and wait.
“Look at me.”
I turn and watch his figure. His right hand clenches his belt while his other stays balled in a fist. Both just hanging beside him loosely as his chest heaves and he studies me.
He steps forward until his body is an inch from mine. “I want the world to know you’re mine, amore.” He raises his hand and twirls the lock of hair that’s fallen from my bun. “I want every man, woman, and being to know I own you.”
I close my eyes and rest my cheek into his palm. I open my mouth to speak but quickly close it when he drops his hand. I open my eyes again, and watch him inch toward the office door.
“Come.”
His demand is short and clipped, and it fills me with anxiety and nervous jitters, but yet my feet still move and obey.
I stop in the aisle of bookshelves right before the register and watch him. Cars pass on the street in front of us as the moonlight spills in brighter than before.
Instinctively, I turn into myself, trying to shield my naked body from passersby’s eyes, but when Easton turns back to me, I can tell by the look on his face he wants everyone to see me—or rather what he’s going to do to me. Luckily with it being so late at night there isn’t much activity on the street or sidewalk, but still, my heart beats harder and my hands shake.
Reluctantly, I drop my shoulders, baring my exposed body to him. He lifts a hand and crooks his pointer at me, the belt still hanging in his grasp. A silent order I don’t question.
I pad across the floor quietly until I reach the counter where he’s settled. Gently, he moves and circles me, stopping directly behind me. “Tell me what you see, amore.”
I look out the windows, trying to focus my mind on everything that’s out there. But his lips now on my neck, down my shoulder, then along my back have me unable to think straight.
“Um— I see my car.”
“Keep going.” He urges me forward using the weight of his body against mine.
My hips dig into the counter as he leans into me, continuing his trail of soft kisses. “Trees.”
The end of his belt runs up my side, and goosebumps erupt all over my skin.
“What else?”
“There are people on the stoop across the street. They’re talking.”
He lets out a low moan. “You think they can see you?”
I squint to try to see them better. “Maybe.”
“Good.”
