For a man who forced me to stay at the estate so he could monitor me, he certainly makes it clear that I have a choice. That he wants me to feel safe. Cared for. Heard.
The collar without the tracking device spoke volumes. The same goes for when he asked me to stay, rather than demanding it.
God, I’d say I like him too, but for some reason it would feel like I’m lying. Because I really, really want him, in ways I can’t explain. It’s more thanlike, and closer to that L word that makes me wonder if I’m going insane. It makes me contemplate if I suffered a brain injury when Arden drugged me, because when I saw that barrel locked between Preston’s eyes, I would’ve jumped in front of him if I weren’t bound to that chair. The thought of going a day without him makes me physically sick.
I know that’s love, but it seems too premature to say it, so I shift my focus to my pasta instead.
The scent of melted butter and sautéed garlic lingers in the air, the aroma so intoxicating and delicious that it’s enough to make you salivate on the spot. I practically am as I shove a forkful of linguini into my mouth. The creamy seafood flavor blooms on my tongue.
Preston chuckles at my hum of satisfaction.
I groan, twisting more pasta noodles onto my fork.
I peek at his plate. His fork and knife are still perfectly in place beside his plate. I should feel self-conscious that he’s watching me inhale mine like a vacuum, but I can’t bring myself to care. On second thought, I should savor it more, considering I’d never be able to pay for this place on only a minimum wage salary.
My brows furrow. “Aren’t you hungry?”
Shadows dance behind his eyes. “Your sweet noises and moans are making it hard for me to focus on my food. I have theurge to devour something else now, but that would involve your pussy trading places with my plate.”
Heat crawls up my neck, flooding my cheeks. I like that I can make him unhinged like this. It makes me feel empowered. Bold. And those are two feelings I never thought I’d get back.
I place more pasta in my mouth, licking my fork up and down, chasing the power I wield. “Holy shit,” I whimper. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
Preston lifts his red wine to his lips, his fingers pulsing into the glass. He raises an unconvinced brow. “You still haven’t swallowed my cock yet.”
“You’re awfully confident,” I tease. Dragging my finger through the sauce on my plate, my tongue darts out, licking the cream off my finger. I swirl my tongue around, releasing it with a pop.
I know I’m poking the devil with his own pitchfork, but I’ve never been this confident with my sexuality. I’ve never craved physical contact like this before—as if I may explode into a thousand pieces if I go too long without his touch.
“Darling,” he warns, his gruff tone floating across my skin. “If you keep this up, I’m going to toss you on this table anyway, except my head won't be between your thighs. I’ll hang yours off the table while I thrust my cock down that hot little throat, while my hand wraps around your neck, and I feel how perfectly you swallow every inch of me.”
His words shake me. Dear lord. Thank God he reserved the rooftop for us privately.
“You wouldn’t,” I say with less confidence than I feel. “This is a public place.”
He tosses his napkin on the table, making my muscles tense with both excitement and fear as he stands up and moves to stand beside me.
“Preston, what if they call the cops?” I mutter, flitting my eyes up to meet his.
He darkly laughs. “I think it's funny that you believe there isn’t someone in this town that isn’t wrapped around my finger.”
THIRTY-SIX | KATE
“Ilove it when you look up at me like this, looking so innocent,” Preston growls.
He’s looming over me with a ravenous look on his face, but I know it's not for the expensive meal spread out on the table before us.
“Your pupils get all dilated, and you do this thing where you wet your lips repeatedly, so they glisten. It’s mean, Kate. You know why?” The lump in my throat expands, and I shake my head. The way he says my name shoots off like a cure through my bloodstream, fixing some of the broken things I’m still dealing with. His fingers lightly drift over my neck, and I shiver. “Because all I can think about is fucking this goddamn mouth and painting your lips with my cum instead.”
I whimper, and he smugly grins in response. When I shift in my seat, I can feel the way my wet panties glide against my clit. And that’s just because of his words. His filthy, erotic words that are just as authoritative over me as his body.
I’m staring at the man, with need written all over my features. My nipples pebble into peaks, my core throbbing with desire for him. It doesn’t matter where we are. All I know is Iwant him to take me here on this rooftop like it might be the last time he touches me.
Taunting him, I lick my lips.
He groans, wrapping my ponytail around his hand forcefully to keep my eyes on him. “You’re such a tease.”
Reaching a hand out, I grasp onto the bulge in his pants near my face. “You’re one to talk, standing here like this all hard and ready for me to take you in my mouth.”
