I closed my eyes and found through some kind of magic, my back bone. Rising from the floor, I stood up straight again.
“What do you do for Caroline?”
“I fix problems,” he said.
“What kinds of problems?”
“The kinds lawyers and accountants can’t fix. That’s two questions.”
“What do you want?”
“Oh, Princess,” he groaned, the tone of his voice changed, revealing in the low gravel, what this game cost him. “Whatdon’tI want from you?”
The force holding me to the wall was suddenly gone, and I stepped forward, desperate to touch him. Desperate to have him touch me.
“No,” he said, and I froze. “Back against the wall.”
“Don’t you want me to... touch you?”
“No, Princess, I don’t want you to touch me.”
“Ron—”
“I want you to touch yourself.”
I thoughtwhat?But the words didn’t get past my lips.
“Princess,” he said softly, like I was something sweet to him, and it pushed me into action. Back against the wall where he wanted me. I feared, no, total honesty—I knew. I knew that if he talked to me with that sweet voice, I’d do whatever he wanted. “Spread your legs.”
I did, shy and spellbound.
He leaned forward into the moonlight. “Wider.”
I stepped out wider. My underwear pulling to the side. “Do what you do when you’re alone,” he said.
“I don’t.” I licked my dry lips with a dryer tongue. Every bit of moisture in my body was between my legs. “I don’t do anything when I’m alone. Not for a very long time.”
His eyebrow lifted. “Why?”
“Because that part of me was beaten into submission,” I told him starkly.
“Well, let’s bring it back.” He sat back into the shadows, and a cloud travelled over the moon outside the window and the room was suddenly dark. “You have beautiful breasts,” he said. “Touch them for me.”
The compliment and the darkness worked in his favor, and my hands came up to cup my breasts. My fingers finding my nipples hard beneath the thin camisole. My breasts ached to be touched.
With his voice telling me what to do, the electrical currents beneath my warm and soft skin hummed to life, and I sucked in a breath.
“You liked when I pulled your nipples. When I made them sting and burn.”
I did. Yes. I remembered that. And I did it to myself. Between my legs I was hot. And suddenly achingly empty.
“Ronan,” I whispered.
“Put a hand between your legs, Poppy.”
I gasped when I did it. My own fingers felt so good.
“Are you wet?”