Page 31 of Ruthless Enforcer

So I won't touch her.

I’ll touch myself instead. My size alone should send an inexperienced virgin running.

I slide my hand under the sheet and wrap my fingers around my cock, watching her face as I do it.

Her lips part. Her breathing changes. But my duchess doesn't look away.

"You want to know what it would be like? Look at me." I start to stroke, slow and deliberate, letting her see the movement beneath the fabric. "I don't do gentle, Clara. I don't do sweet. When I fuck, I take what I want, and I don't stop until the woman underneath me is shaking and can't remember her own name."

Her pupils dilate. She licks her lip.

I groan, practically feeling her tongue on my cock. Shit—I meant to scare her away but I’ve only succeeded in turning myself on more. I have to squeeze my dick to keep it under control. “I’m dying to know if you taste as spicy as I think. If I had my way, I’d spread those pretty thighs and feast on your pussy till you begged. Would you beg for me, Duchess? Or would you order me to lick your clit until you screamed my name?”

She gasps, her eyes widening, showing her innocence.

Fuck if it isn’t delicious. I smile darkly. “I bet you’d scream my name as I fucked you. I’d fuck you so hard you'd feel it for days. And you'd take it, Duchess. You'd take every inch and ask for more."

Her chest rises with a sharp inhale. Swallowing hard, her gaze focuses on my hand moving under the sheet.

She doesn't leave.

I tighten my grip and stroke faster, letting the pleasure build, letting her watch the way my body responds. My free hand fists in the sheet. My hips lift slightly into the rhythm. I want to push the sheet down to my thighs so she can see exactly what I'm doing. I want her to pull the sheet away, to ask me to do it.

If she did, I wouldn’t be able to say no to her.

I tighten my hand around my cock, pissed as much as I’m turned on because I’m about to be noble, goddamn it. "So if you're standing there thinking this is some kind of romantic arrangement, you should walk out that door right now. I'm not safe for a woman who's never been touched."

Her gaze is locked on my hand, on the movement, on the way my cock is outlined against the sheet. She's breathing through her mouth, shallow and uneven, and I can see the flush spreading down her throat, disappearing beneath the neckline of my sweatshirt.

She's aroused.

She's fascinated.

She's not afraid.

Her gaze lifts to mine, and her mouth curves, just slightly. “Is that supposed to make me not want you? Because I think you may have miscalculated.”

Fuck me.

I come hard, spilling over my hand and stomach with a low, bitten-off curse, and the release doesn't do a damn thing to ease the want clawing through my chest.

The room is silent except for my breathing.

“I'm not hiding in my uncle's house while everyone plays chess with my life,” Clara finally says. Her voice is steady. Calm. Absolutely certain. “And I'm not afraid of you, Gabriel."

Just like that, my cock starts to harden again. "You should be."

"Maybe, but I'm not." She shrugs and moves toward the door. In the doorway, she pauses. "I'm ready to go when you are."

Then she's gone.

I stare at the empty doorway for a long moment, then drop my head back against the headboard and close my eyes.

I can still smell her.

Fuck, I want her.

My cock stirs, and I start stroking it again, letting images of her fill my head. Clara in my sweatshirt. Clara watching me with those green eyes. Clara standing in my doorway and telling me she's not afraid.