“I almost choked you,” she protested.
He laughed, yanking his tie off himself. “I almost tore your dress.”
She looked down at the disheveled front of her dress. He did the same. The top button of the V neckline was open, revealing a taunting hint of her incredible cleavage.
His cock throbbed. He sucked in a breath. She lifted her hand, touching the second button with her fingertips. He drew in another breath, this one shaky.
“Don’t move,” she said softly, calmly, a heartbeat before she popped the second button.
Fuck me…
The raw thought growled through Angus’s head as more of the swell of her breasts became visible.
She undid the third button.
He groaned. Shifted his feet. He wanted to rip the rest of her dress open.
“Don’t move,” she repeated, a playful steel in her instruction.
He tore his stare up to her face, his mouth dry. His cock throbbed harder, so thick it strained against his pants with painful pressure.
She released the fourth button.
The soft fabric of her dress parted completely. He wanted to look at what she’d served to him. Wanted to cup them, squeeze them, taste them. Instead, he held her gaze. Lethertake control. Didn’t move. Just like she told him.
He was a control freak. He knew that. But with Elisa…he didn’t want to be. She’d already confided she struggled with anxiety. More than anything, he wanted this moment to be safe and wonderful and everything she wanted it to be.
So, for the first time since escaping the brutal unpredictability of life with his father, he relinquished power.
Stood motionless. Watching her watch him.
Her hands moved again. Another button.
His body tightened. His blood raced.
Something flickered in her eyes, something that made his breath catch, something intimate and intense and…andtrusting, and then she slowly inched her dress off her shoulders.
The soft fabric slipped down her body.
He followed its path with his eyes, unable not to, noting the delicate mint-green lacy bra and matching undies she wore. He sucked in a shaky breath. Ground his teeth. Forced the base male urge wanting to control him down.
Lifting his stare to her eyes again, he showed her she was in control. Promised her this would be on her terms without a word.
Slowly, with a quick bite of her bottom lip, she stepped out of the puddle of dress at her feet, and walked toward him.
“Hi,” she whispered when she stopped directly in front of him. Her smile—part shy, part mischief—curled her lips. Her body’s heat seeped into his own.
“Hi,” he said back.
“I think I’d like to take your clothes off,” she said.
A low chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. “I thinkI’dlike you to take my clothes off.”
She laughed.
And began.
9