“Can you see me?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I tell you to come in. You’ve worn a red dress and look beautiful, but that’s not what I need tonight. I want nothing between us. I order you to undress for me. Slowly.”
His breath brushed against the shell of her ear with every word, and a hot shiver worked its way down her body. She pictured herself standing there in the middle of his room, the window she’d so often spied through bearing silent witness. She could almost hear the zipper dragging down as she imagined reaching behind her and tugging it to slip out of the dress.
“You’re wearing a lacy bra and panties, and I can see just enough beneath to drive me crazy. I love your body, those curves, the gorgeous glow of your skin. It reminds me of warm cocoa.” He pressed his lips against the curve of her neck and grazed her with the tip of his tongue. “And I know it will taste just as sweet.”
Holy Moses. The tiny touch sent every muscle tightening, and a moan built in the back of her throat.
“I tell you to come closer to stand between my knees. You do so without saying a word. I haven’t given you permission to speak. I don’t touch you yet. You haven’t earned it. But your nipples are dark shadows beneath the lacy material, the little points begging for my mouth, and your panties are clinging to you.” His voice dipped even lower. “You’re so wet for me already, I can taste your scent in the air.”
Her thighs pressed together, the imaginary arousal becoming all too real.
“I can barely stand to stay patient. My cock is pressing against the fly of my pants, aching for you. But I like riding that edge, taking my time. And I owe you a punishment.”
“Why?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“Because you were seven minutes late for our date.” His fingertips trailed along the tops of her thighs, lighting up nerve endings in their wake even through the material of her jeans. “I tell you to lose the bra and to kneel down next to me. You’re being a good girl and you follow my instructions. The bra falls to the floor and those full breasts are there on display for me. I lay you across my lap and capture your arms behind you.” His fingers circled both her wrists and applied pressure. “You’re all mine now.”
Mine, her mind repeated, the word sounding sexier than she’d ever heard it. Phillip had used that word like an angry child—mine!—a threat. But the way Colby said it was like he was cherishing the privilege of having her.
“I tug your panties down to your knees, exposing that heart-shaped ass to me. I can’t wait to make it sting. But I can’t resist dipping my fingers between your legs first, sliding them inside.” A little rumbling sound went through his chest, and a very prominent bulge pressed against her backside. “You’re so hot and wet for me, Georgia. Perfect. Your body clamps around my fingers, and you start to beg a little. You’re close to coming already. But there’s punishment before pleasure. Then one will blend into the other.”
She shifted against him, her internal heat building to an almost unbearable level. The seam of her jeans rubbed against her panties, putting just enough pressure against her clitoris to remind her there was nothing she could do about the ache.
“I slide my fingers out and suck your sweetness off them. You taste so good,” he said, reverence in his voice. “Then I raise my hand . . .”
Georgia’s eyes were pinched shut, and she was holding her breath. The whole scene was so clear in her head—her sprawled across his lap, that big hand of his perched above her bare ass, her arousal slick between her legs. A begging word played on her lips.
“Then whack!”
She startled as if she’d really been hit.
“My hand comes down across your flesh, and the sting radiates through your body. You cry out because I’m not in the mood to be gentle—I rarely am—but I know that soon the sting will turn to a burn and then into something much, much better. I spank you again. And again. Seven times for the seven minutes you were late. You can barely stay still. I hold your wrists tight to keep you in place. But soon you’re begging me for some relief. Please let me come. Please.
“I’m feeling generous now because you’ve taken your punishment with sexy grace, but I’m not ready to fuck you quite yet. I have a lot more planned for you. But you’ve earned your first one. I slide you off my lap and make you sit on the floor with your legs spread.”
Georgia curled her fingers into her palms, lost in the fantasy he was conjuring.
“You’re so aroused and ready. I’ve never seen such an irresistible sight. I unzip my pants and take my cock in my hand. Your gaze goes to it. I love that you want it. That you want me. But all in good time. Right now I want to sit back and enjoy the show. I tell you to touch yourself. Come for me, Georgia.”
Georgia clamped her thighs together.
“I can tell you’re nervous, but you need to come, so that’s making you bolder, less self-conscious, more motivated to please me. You let your hand slip between your legs. Your eyes close and I know you won’t be long. My beautiful girl is going to come for me. Then when she’s done, she’s going to kneel for me and make me come, too, because there’s nothing she loves more than taking my cock in her mouth and making me go over.”
God. Georgia couldn’t speak. The scene was so vivid and illicit. Her on the floor at his feet, spread wide and pleasuring herself. It wasn’t something she would’ve imagined herself doing for a man. She’d never been a prude, but she’d also stuck to the basics in the bedroom. Now she felt like she’d explode at the thought of being in that position for Colby.
Colby’s lips pressed against her ear. “Still with me, gorgeous?”
Her mouth was dry as she shifted on his lap, his erection a teasing presence beneath her. “Yes.”
“Are you wet?”
She bit her lip. This wasn’t the fantasy anymore. He was really asking her. He had to know the answer already. “Yes.”
He made a pleased sound under his breath and kissed her neck again. “Would you like to come?”