I’d spent countless nights imagining what she’d sound like when she came. If she’d gasp or moan or scream. But in my fantasies, I’d always brought her to orgasm with my cock—not with my tongue or my hands. I wanted us to find satisfaction together, not one at a time.
A dark voice in the back of my mind worried that if I accepted her deal and she returned the favor, that might be all she’d ever be willing to offer. Tomorrow, she’d go back to telling me we shouldn’t, or what a bad idea it was for us to get involved.
I’d wanted her for so long, I was out of my mind. In the absence of logic, my selfishness seized control.
I climbed to my feet and kissed her roughly, silencing her sound of surprise. I let her taste herself on my lips, before breaking it off abruptly. “I don’t want your mouth. I want you,” I coursed a hand between her legs, “here.”
“W-What?”
“I want to fuck you. If you don’t want to, that’s fine, but I want this to be fair.”
Her silver eyes went wide. “Fair?”
“You don’t get to come if I don’t.” I knew I was a fucking asshole. That I was leaving her hanging on the precipice, but I didn’t want her to say no, and this was the only leverage I had.
Us being together felt inevitable. Couldn’t she see that? I wanted her, and I always got what I wanted.
But I should have known this was a mistake—I’d made enough of them already.
The hurt look on her face made me wish I was dead.Scheiße,I was so goddamn selfish. I’d left her leaning against the wall where she could barely stand. I should have stayed on my knees and finished what I’d started, instead of thinking about myself.
Maybe I could apologize and she’d forgive me mid-orgasm?—
Her eyes narrowed to slits.Fuck. That wasn’t going to happen.
“You think”—her voice hardened with every word like she was gathering strength—“I need your permission?”
“No, I’m sorry. I?—”
“You think,” she hissed, “I needyoufor that?”
I didn’t understand, not until her shaky hands drifted down to her skirt. One pulled it up out of her way and she used the other to slide two fingers through the cleft between her legs and touch herself.
My jaw hit the floor. Once again, I’d miscalculated. Underestimated her. Of course she didn’t need me. She’d spent her marriage being unfulfilled by her husband, so she’d taken matters into her own hands, so to speak. The darkest part of me was thrown into chaos. I wanted those to be my hands. I was supposed to bring her to ecstasy with my touch, not her own.
“Fuck,” I breathed, watching her rub herself.
A woman who knew what she wanted was deeply erotic. Willing to get what she wanted. I couldn’t tear my gaze away. Her icy blue eyes locked onto mine, and I could see everything. That she was shy and nervous to do this in front of me, but her desire for power and control was greater. Her craving was greater. It almost collapsed me to my knees watching it, the most intimate act she could show me.
I murmured encouragement, making sure to soften the hard edge of the words so her American ears would know I wasanything but angry. Words of power, of strength. I told her that she owned me, had rule over me, and everything I had was hers.
When her breath quickened, I undid my pants and jammed a hand inside because I was too desperate and aching not to. I curled my fingers around my cock and stroked, and she watched the movement as if hypnotized.
She parted her lips but was perfectly silent as a tremble overtook her whole body...
And just like that, it stopped.
Like she was finished.
She straightened and pushed her skirt down, ripping her gaze away as if she felt guilt or shame.
“No,” I said. “No.” I put my hands on her, wanting them everywhere. On her breasts. On her legs. Inside her again. “Was that supposed to be an orgasm?”
I silenced her protest with a kiss, one I hoped was convincing. The need for her was crushing, overwhelming, and it intensified when she shifted the angle of her head. She did it so she could deliver a kiss more powerful than anything she’d given me before, and while I was hard everywhere else, my knees went soft.
Her fingers raced at the buttons of my dress shirt, threw it open, and pushed it down my shoulders, freeing me. If I was going to be shirtless, she should be too. I grabbed the hem of her top and yanked it up over her head, making her blonde hair splash around her shoulders. Her perfect breasts were trapped in her black bra, begging for my touch, and our hands met fumbling at her bra clasp.
Warm, soft skin pressed against my chest. Her breasts were amazing and tasted even better. She whimpered with pleasure when I flicked my tongue over a nipple and watched it peak to my command. The zipper of her skirt was easy enough, and it fell to her ankles, leaving her naked except for the sinful red shoes.
