Page 50 of Bared

“I am going to listen to you,” she stated without hesitation. “And then I am going to observe your orders. And I shall do it all because I trust you to meet my needs, Brickham. And because I want to meet all of yours.”

Holy. Freaking. Fuck.

He almost said it out loud. He was halted by his convulsing throat, which his whirling mind already jammed full of other words. Her jaw-dropper deserved a friend to keep it company, right?

“Even if one of my needs is to finish this by feeling your climax around my cock?”

He wouldn’t lie. Her flush, her gape, and her swift rush of breath were exactly what he’d wished for and better than he’d imagined. She was stunning. Beautiful. Beyond breathtaking. Even as she faltered a little while tentatively raising her fingers to his chest, then lifting her wondering gaze up to his. She searched him with endless aqua intensity, clearly seeking something from him. Approval? Disapproval? Encouragement? Permission?

Thank God she didn’t make him wait to find out.

“Yes, Sir,” she murmured, filling his sights with the resplendence of her smile. “Especially if you need that.”

Now she was better than breathtaking.

She was his every fantasy brought to vivid life.

Chapter Eight

She should be afraid.

Why was she not more afraid?

Jayd had just given this man—this person she had met but a few hours ago—full agreement to control her body as he liked. To use her for his desire. To command her as he wished.

But few decisions in her life had felt more right.

Which did not make a stick of sense.

She should be on the couch in a fetal ball, dealing with the fallout from life’s masochistic strikes today. The letdown of never connecting with LaBarre. The sick horror of being betrayed and assaulted by those two bonsuns from the bar. Then the fear of losing Requiemme in the streets, capped by the anguish that came with finding her. She had started this day with so many hopes but ended it with so many regrets.

Nothing about Maximillian Brickham felt like a regret.

Not from the first time she set eyes on him. Especially not in this moment.

This exquisite, extraordinary, completely consummate cataclysm…

That instantly made her crave another one.

And so many more.

More. Please, please, more!

She hoped Brickham saw the plea in her eyes as he bracketed her hips with his hands and slowly pushed her against the counter. At once, her thoughts were like butterflies in a eucalyptus grove, scattered but giddy. They took faster flight as the man hitched her up onto the ledge. In the same movement, he nudged his body between her legs.

Then dipped his head…and kissed her perfectly on the mouth.

Correction. This was no kiss. This was a kiss, flagrant and full and lusty. This was heat, force, and hardness she had never experienced before. This was a conquering, leaving no inch of her lips, tongue, and mouth unscathed.

This was every passionate dream she had ever cherished or imagined. And more.

At last, they had to break apart for giant gulps of air. But Brick did not venture far. Not at all. He made it easy to grip at his thick shoulders as he stayed thoroughly inside her personal space.

She reveled in the feel of him, her senses rejoicing in his obscenely masculine scent.

He barely blinked, fixating on her with his smoke-dark eyes.

“Good Christ.” He sucked in such a harsh breath, Jayd started.