YOU’RE SAFE WITH ME
PAIGE
Derek swept me up into his arms, and my legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling my pussy tight against the throbbing, hard length of his cock straining beneath his sweatpants. I bit my lip at the thick feeling of his member and expected what would happen.
The feeling of being carried by him again—this time without the audience—made me feel giddy.
“Where are we going?” I asked breathlessly, my arms locked around his neck.
“My room,” he said, kissing me. He walked with his lips moving against mine with an urgency that made my toes curl. “On my bed. Where I can spread you out properly and worship every inch of you.”
His words went straight between my thighs, making my legs tighten around him. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so turned on, especially just by words. His filthy words.
“Worship, huh?” I said, nipping at his jaw and running my hand through his soft hair. “You keep using that word.”
“Because I mean it,” he said, his blue eyes darkening.
He opened his bedroom door, and the sound of it clicking closed behind us made me feel a little reckless.
“I’m going to worship you, Paige,” he promised. “And you’re going to enjoy every inch of it.”
Derek laid me on the cool sheets of his bed with a gentleness that made my chest ache. Then he stood over me, just gazing at me for so long that I fought the urge to cover myself.
I wondered how I looked with just sweatpants on and tousled hair. Probably weird. I wasn’t even wearing sexy underwear—shit, did I shave?
“You’re staring,” I whispered, hyperaware of every imperfection that the soft lamplight must be highlighting.
“No, I’m memorizing,” he said, leaning down and bracing his hands on either side of my head. “Every perfect detail.”
Perfect. He kept calling me perfect, and a part of me wanted to believe him.
He kissed me slowly and tenderly this time, and it felt different. Like he was trying to tell me something he couldn’t put into words. When he pulled back, I could barely breathe.
“I want to touch you everywhere,” he confessed, his voice rough. “I want to kiss every inch of you. Make you feel so good you forget your own name.”
My pulse was racing as I asked, “What do you mean?”
“I mean—” he stopped and kissed my sternum. I felt the warmth of his lips through my skin. “I need to taste your pussy. Touch you and learn what makes your cunt come apart.”
My eyes went wide at his filthy words. “Derek?—”
“Tell me no if you don’t want this.” He held my gaze, and I saw nothing but lust and want. “Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you say yes?—”
He kissed lower, across my ribs, and I gasped. “If you say yes, I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”
Jack had never… we had never?—
But this is not Jack. This is Derek. Hot boss, best-friend, fake boyfriend Derek.
I nodded, too overwhelmed to speak, but Derek shook his head.
“I need words, beautiful,” he whispered against my skin, his warm hands gliding over my waist. “I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes,” I said, arching into his touch. “Yes, Derek. Please.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Derek stripped away my remaining clothes with agonizing slowness. I watched his face, saw the way his jaw tightened, the way his hands trembled slightly.
He wasn’t doing this for himself. No, he was doing it for me and the realization made my throat tight.
