But I shook my head, clenching my teeth to not cry out. Oh, God. I’m coming.
“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Crist,” I groaned. “Someone’s at the door. I have to go, okay?”
And I yanked my arm free, high on rage and energy as I hurriedly swiped the End Call button.
I threw my head back, whimpering, “Oh, God.” Grinding harder, I fucked his hand, needing to come so bad.
But then he pulled his fingers out of my panties, and I shot my head up, confused.
What the hell?
He flipped me over and then came back down on me again, pinning my hands above my head.
The throbbing between my legs ached, and the orgasm was right there. Shit!
“Michael, no!” I cried, squirming underneath him. “Oh, God, why did you stop?”
The weight of his body between my spread legs felt so good. I rolled my hips, chasing th
e orgasm.
“Don’t you fucking grind on me,” he growled. “You don’t get to come until you tell me the truth.”
“What truth?” I burst out. “You mean what you want to hear?”
Jesus! Did he ever stop?
“Being scared turns you on, doesn’t it?” he pressed.
No. Screw him. He needed to know he couldn’t push me around and do this to me anymore.
I clenched my teeth and scowled, shaking my head.
No, Michael. Your mask doesn’t scare me. It didn’t get me hot, and I hated it when you wore it.
His piercing eyes turned angry, and I saw his jaw flex. He pushed up off me and looked down with contempt.
“Go to bed,” he ordered.
And I fought to hide my smile as I peeled myself up off the couch. My body was tight and tense, and I was so fucking needy, I ached.
But I’d won. He hadn’t gotten what he wanted.
I stormed out of the media room and made my way down the hall, running up the stairs to the second floor. I wasn’t trying to get away from him, but I was fucking angry and pleased and turned on, and now I had energy to spare.
Slamming my bedroom door closed behind me, I crashed onto my bed and buried my face in my pillow. But the cool fabric of the fresh sheets did nothing to soothe my burning skin.
I was a wreck.
I needed him deep inside, to feel him and taste him and see him lose control over me for once.
I wanted him to use me and fuck me and go at me with a desperation he never showed for anything or anyone.
How did he manage to stop just then? He wasn’t a machine. I hadn’t mistaken what I’d seen in his eyes and the heat I’d felt from his mouth. He wanted me, didn’t he?
I let out a sigh, trying to get my breathing to even out.
Circling, circling, circling…He pulled, I pulled. He pushed, I pushed. We fought and played, toyed and challenged, but he never gave in. We never came together, fused, and seized what was there.