“It’s wet all right,” I reply, without thinking the words through.
His slate eyes shoot to mine, and darken impossibly further. “You want me, baby?”
I nod, biting my lip to keep from sharing the details of yesterday’s vibrator session with him. “Are you hard for me?”
It’s a rhetorical question. The evidence is irrefutable, his shorts tented dramatically, but if I have to acknowledge my state, I want him to, too.
“So goddamned hard,” he admits, stroking himself through the fabric of his shorts.
I swallow, my mouth dry. “Get naked. Now.”
He strips off, and I drool a little. His thighs are bulky and strong, and his cock—wow. It’s thick, really freaking long, and surprisingly well-groomed.
He takes that cock in his hand and strokes it lazily, watching me watch him. “Like what you see?”
“I’d like it more if I was touching it.” Grabbing his forearm, I ease him away and smooth my fingers over the head, smearing precum down his length. He’s as turned on as I am, and more than anything, I want to hear him gasp and groan and lose all of his iron willpower. As I wrap my hand around him, his entire body goes rigid, and beads of sweat roll over the ridges of his abdomen. He thrusts forward, demanding more, and I squat and lick him.
“Fuck, baby.” He grabs fistfuls of my hair and jerks me forward so I take him fully into my mouth. “More.”
I go to town on him, playing out many of the fantasies I’ve had since our first kiss, loving the way he strains and sighs and talks dirty to me. His fingers plunge into my hair, and then he’s guiding me up and down the way he likes. But you know what? I want to be in control. I pull myself off him with a pop, and his hips jerk closer, seeking me out again.
I turn my face away. “Behave yourself. This is my game.”
Not willing to play by my rules, he releases his grip on my hair and jerks himself, muttering something under his breath about cock teases. I have to say, watching him pleasure himself is really working for me. I reach for him, but he draws back.
“You wanted to play silly games,” he growls. “Now I’m playing. Sit on the bed and show me your pretty pussy.”
My vagina purrs, pleased to have his attention. I’m eager to see where this is going, so I do as he orders, lying back and resting on my elbows, wriggling my panties off and spreading my thighs so he can see me, glistening pink and waiting for him. I dip a finger into myself and slide it through my folds, keeping my eyes on him, seeing his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare.
He takes an involuntary step forward, then seems to catch himself, and barks, “Don’t touch yourself. I’m the only one allowed to touch that pussy.”
I arch a brow. “Oh, really?” I don’t stop, but instead slide a second finger in to join the party. “What’re you going to do about it?” I don’t see him move, but next thing I know he’s pinned me to the bed and has my wrists above my head. A laugh escapes me. “Huh. You really are that good.”
He lowers his mouth to my ear, not releasing my hands. “However good you think I am, double it. I’m the best you’ll ever have, cutie pie.”
I nuzzle him. “Prove it.”
I expect him to thrust into me, going straight for the prize, but instead he orders me to keep my hands where they are while he slides down my body. The moment his mouth latches onto my throbbing center, my hands are in his hair. Stopping, he removes his face from between my thighs and looks at me, waiting until I return my hands above my head before continuing.
A whimper tears through me. I struggle to lie still beneath his sensual onslaught without grabbing onto something—anything—to anchor myself in the present. I can hardly believe this is actually happening. I’ve known this man for less than a week, and while I’ve had the occasional one-night stand, casual affairs aren’t something I make a habit of. Especially not ones with guys like this. Men who could use me and toss me aside with a broken heart, or worse. And on top of that, ones who could jeopardize my entire career.
“Please,” I gasp, needing to be on a level footing with him, needing not to come until he does, too. I can’t be the weak one in this crazy whirlwind of passion. “I want you to fuck me. Right. Now.”
He rises up on his elbows, and his gaze is ferocious in its intensity. “How do you like it?”
He’s actually asking? It’s sweet I suppose, but can’t the asshole just get down to screwing me?
“Me on top.” That way I retain some of the power. Based on the way he grins and buries his face in me again, he likes my answer. My head drops, my back arches up, and I’m so close—soclose—but then he’s gone.
I scream in frustration. But then, once I’ve recovered, I clamber to my knees and point a finger at him. “Bring your glorious cock back here and shove it in me, you asshole.”
Giving me a wink, he holds up a condom. “Thought you might want this.”
I pout. “I also wanted to come.”
His cock bobs, as if it likes that answer. He sheaths himself and sits on the mattress, his back against the bed head, legs sprawled before him. “I’m at your mercy. Ride me like you want to.”
And then he interlocks his fingers behind his head and leans back as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. Well, I’m about to change that. Jase Rawlins will beg me for more by the time I’m done with him. While I’m not always sexually adventurous, I’m confident in myself, and in the chemistry that’s been sizzling between us since day one.
