“Wake up, Alyx. It’s time.”
I smelled him before I opened my eyes. “Granite,” I whispered, breathing rapidly, oxygen getting stuck in my throat. “What are you doing?”
While leaning over me, licking his lips as if he could still taste me, he glanced from my mouth to my eyes. “I’m kissing you.”
It took me a moment to shake the remnants of my vivid dream. Trying to wipe my eyes, I felt something restricting my arms. I couldn’t move. Tugging and yanking, I realized my wrists were tied to the bedpost. My feet as well. “What is going on? Granite, untie me.”
“I told you, the next time you welcome my tongue in your mouth, you have to be prepared to welcome me between your legs.” He straightened, and my gaze raked over his naked chest. Granite was a mountain, every roped muscle oozing strength and power. His arms seemed like weapons hanging from broad, sloped shoulders, and I remembered what it felt like having them around me when he kissed me. It was a feeling I wanted to experience again, being held within the confines of his arms.
Wearing only a pair of jeans, I was able to follow the trail of black hair that subtly disappeared beneath the denim.
Flickers of light came from candles placed around the room, and it cast a hundred shadows over him, emphasizing how dark and wicked he truly was. But the way he stared down at me reminded me of the man I had just seen in my dreams, and for a moment, I was that girl. The girl who stared at the man she was hopelessly attracted to and undeniably infatuated with. The girl who wanted to feel him against her. But it felt reckless, wanting him, my mind still trying to fight.
A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve waited so long for you, ballerina girl.”
I tugged at the ropes. “No. This is not right.”
“Yet you kissed me back.”
“I was asleep.”
Dark curls fell over his shoulders as he pulled his fingers through his hair. “What were you dreaming about, Alyx?”
I swallowed hard. “I don’t remember.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying,”
“Well, then, there’s only one way to find out.” He towered over me and placed a single finger on my lips. The wild curls of his hair hung down the sides of his face, his beard as unruly as ever. Intense green eyes followed the movement of his hand as it slowly traveled down my chin…my chest…between my breasts causing me to shiver.
I let out a whimper, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. A part of me wanted to slap that smile off his face, hating that he knew he affected me this way. But the biggest part of me relished his touch, loving the way my body climbed higher and higher, closer to the edge.
Biting his bottom lip, he traced his finger down my stomach, and I cursed my body for responding to his touch. This wasn’t something I wanted, yet my body made no secret about the fact that it was exactly whatitwanted. And Granite knew that. He was so confident because, as he had claimed before, he knew me. He had been a part of my life long before I was even aware.
As his touch stopped just above the waistband of my tights, his gaze cut to mine for a second before he looked down again. “A woman’s body has a voice of its own, Alyx. It can tell a man exactly what it wants.” The tip of his finger teased across my skin, threatening to dip beneath the fabric. A part of me wanted to push his hand away, but another part of me urged him to touch me lower. It was utterly insane how my body burned for him, flames promising to incinerate me while my skin hungered to feel his warmth. I tried to fight it. I tried to remain strong, to not succumb to the desire he so easily stirred within me. By the way lust pooled between my legs, I knew I was losing the fight.
“What do you think I’ll find when I touch you…there?” Fingers dipped in beneath the waistband, dangerously close to where it ached.
“Nothing.” I swallowed hard, the lie feeling like gravel in my throat.
“Let’s find out, shall we?” He moved his wrist, and a single digit slipped through my sensitive folds, and I couldn’t stop the moan from escaping me.
“Ballerina girl, it seems your body is weeping for me.”
“Screw you.”
“Soon.”
A finger dipped lower, pushing against my entrance, and my hips bucked.
“Jesus, Alyx. Your body is just as desperate as your pussy is wet.”
“Stop.” The plea lacked desperation but weighed heavily with longing.
The pad of his finger brushed against my clit, and I arched my back, an electric current surging up my spine.
“Granite, this isn’t right.” My voice was soft, too soft, lacking conviction.