Page 91 of The Haunting Plot

SAWYER

Once all of her houseguests are gone, she shuts the door, pressing her head to the wood as she releases a deep breath.

My palms smack the door on either side of her head, and she flinches at the sudden noise.

“Sorry, don’t know my own strength sometimes,” I say, pressing my erection into her ass as I cage her in.

“How long have you been hard?”

“Since I came downstairs and you smiled at me.”

“That was a while ago.”

“I know. It’s a problem I’d love your help with.”

She turns underneath me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Can you do something for me?”

“Anything. Right now I would chase you through the woods in a mask and fuck you against a tree if you asked me to. Or I would carry you up those stairs and make sweet tender love to you. I’ll be anything you need me to be. You only have to ask.”

“How do you know about masked men and primal kink? That’s not in any of my books.”

“I may have picked up a few more books.” Her mouth opens and closes like my words have stunned her, and the prettiest blush pinkens her cheeks. “They weren’t as good as yours, but I learned some things.”

She shakes her head, finding her composure. “I want to manage expectations here. I’m never going to play into misogynistic bullshit and fake an orgasm so you feel better about your lack of skills.”

“I would expect nothing less from you.” I lean down and grab a handful of her ass, encouraging her to jump into my arms. When she complies, wrapping her legs around me in a vise grip, I squeeze her cheeks hard and head for the stairs.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I won’t be vocal for your comfort. You may have made me come with your mouth, but your dick is a whole other story.”

“Oh, you’re gonna be vocal.” I smile against her as she rests her head on my shoulders while I climb the stairs and move quickly toward her room.

“Love the confidence. Keep telling yourself that.”

I stop at the edge of her bed. “Technically my dick has already made you come repeatedly.”

“At my skilled hand. Yes, the shape and texture are nice, but I’m the one thrusting it, grinding on it. I’m the one doing the actual fucking. Your dick was just the tool.”

I know she’s fucking with me. Teasing me because she knows it turns me on, and I drop her onto the bed. “Raven, you can use my dick to get yourself off anytime you like.”

She leans back on her arms as her eyes rake up and down my body. “Lose the clothes.”

“Yes, madame,” I say, as I kick off my shoes with the grace of a baby elephant, nearly falling as I tug on my sock.

“On second thought, sit down. I don’t need you breaking a hip.” She climbs off the bed.

“Fuck off.” I grin as I sit on the edge, and she kneels to remove my socks. Her hands skate across my thighs, reaching up to undo my pants. I lift so she can slide them down, along with my boxers. Once they’re off, she tosses them on the floor and stands over me.

I reach behind my neck, tugging my long-sleeve shirt off in one fluid motion, and her eyes snag on the large bandage covering my arm. In all of our activities the night before, I never took my shirt off. Fuck, maybe I am Pooh Bear.

She reaches for it. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing. I—” Her hands tremble as she removes the gauze covering my bicep.

“You got a tattoo?”

“Yeah.” She blinks down at me as I decide how honest to be with her. Even though I’ve already told her how serious I am about making a life with her, the ink on my skin is a permanent declaration.

Her fingers trace the edges of the ink with so much reverence that the words come pouring out.