She pulls at my hair, bringing her lips to mine. I don’t refuse. Tracing my tongue along hers, I close my eyes for a second and stumble when I catch my foot on something. I stop in the hallway, drawing back to brush her hair off her forehead.
“God, you're beautiful,” I murmur, leaning in to place my lips on her again.
Blake moans into my mouth as she clings to my shoulders. I take the last few remaining steps to my bedroom, kick the door closed, and stalk to the bed.
She looks up, taking in the room. It’s nothing much—I’ve never needed anything more than a bed, side table, and chest of drawers. I decided to forgo color in here, settling on a muted black-and-gray palette. There’s something about the depressive state of the room that feels good versus the rest of the colorful apartment.
“Theo,” Blake whispers, causing me to turn toward her. “I need you to touch me.”
Not one to disappoint, I place her on the bed gently, her hair fanning around her as she looks up at me. I’ve tried so hard to keep my feelings for her at bay, but Blake Adams is seared into every molecule of my body. There’s no me without her.
Kneeling on the bed, it dips under my weight, and I crawl toward her, my hands skimming across her body. When my hands graze her stomach, she sucks it in.
“What did I tell you about doing that?” I growl before dropping my tone. “Do you know how much of a turn-on this is?”
“Huh?”
“Your body. Knowing you grew my child here. How beautiful you are for giving me the greatest gift I could have ever asked for, even if I didn’t know it at the time.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath and the uncertainty in her voice as she replies, “Thank you?”
Leaning down, I place a gentle kiss on her stomach, my eyes becoming glossy with emotions, but I shake them off.
This is not the time nor the place, Theo.
Trying to get my head out of my ass, I change tactics. “Play with those gorgeous tits, firefly,” I demand, my tone low as I move backward off the bed.
Blake bites her lip, unsure, but I raise an eyebrow at her, waiting. She sits up, unclasps her bra, and places it next to her before lying back down, her gaze firmly on me. Slowly, her hand comes up, tentatively stroking a finger along the top of her breast. My eyes track the motion, watching as she touches one of my favorite parts of her. I know this’ll drive her mad—she wants me to be touching her—but hell, it’s driving me mad too.
I watch as a wave of euphoria graces her face the more she plays with herself.
Note to self: she likes her tits being played with.Yay for me.
I remove my shirt, throwing it haphazardly behind me as I gaze intently at what she’s doing. Her left hand comes down to the apex of her thighs, while her right hand continues to knead her breast.
My mouth waters at the sight when her legs widen, even if they are still covered in her work pants. She slides her hand into the waistband, her fingers going straight to her needy cunt. My hands itch to help take her clothes off, to speed up the process, but I hold myself back—barely.
“Theo?” she gasps. “Be a good boy and come help me.”
Oh, fucking hell.
Is this what it feels like when a woman loves being called 'good girl?’ Because I can get behind that. I take off the rest of my clothes as quickly as I can, trying not to fall over in my haste to get out of them. She turned the tables with those two words—I’ve gone from dominant and in control to needy and begging within the space of a second, and I’m not even mad about it.
Blake pushes her pants down her legs, kicking them off the side of the bed. Her panties follow next, and I know I’ll be stealing those for the nights when she’s not here. Her legs spread wide again, and I’m dying for a taste.
Wanting to see how it plays out, I demand in a low tone, “Why don’t you come over here and get on your knees for me.”
Blake glances at me, then smirks and taps her lip. “Hmm… no.”
“No?” I ask, my grin widening.
“No,” she reiterates, sitting up and bracing her elbows behind her. “I think you need a reminder about who it is you’re speaking to.”
My eyebrows raise. I usually like to be the one in control—hello, control issues over here—but I love this new imbalance of power.
I smirk when she climbs off the bed, taking a couple of steps back as she walks toward me, her eyes holding a mischievous glint in them. She’s completely naked, her long hair falling around her shoulders in the sexiest way possible, and I’m momentarily stunned athow lucky I am.
She stops in front of me and trails a finger gently down my chest, stopping at my nipple piercings. “These are new,” she says, with a head tilt before taking a one between her fingers and squeezing gently.
