Then I climbed into his big bed and waited.
Anticipation crawled up my spine. It made me hyperaware of my body and the way the silk of his tie and the soft bedding felt against my skin. It had me imagining all the different scenarios that could play out when he got home and discovered me in his bed. Would he drop everything and crawl on top of me? Would he be upset I’d come in here without his permission?
Would he punish me for it?
A sexy shiver glanced through my shoulders.
Without making a conscious decision, my fingertips crept down the front of my panties, moving to alleviate the ache. Royce had spent a lot of nights in this bed thinking about me while he touched himself, and I liked how I was now doing the same.
I swallowed thickly as my fingers glided over my clit, bringing warmth and satisfaction. My eyes fluttered closed, and I relaxed back against the pillows, settling in to enjoy myself. Not too much, though. Hopefully, he would arrive soon and finish me off.
A sigh slipped from my lips. As I rubbed faster, the sensation caused me to arch my back. I wanted to writhe with pleasure. Give myself over to it and find release, but I controlled myself. The teasing was delicious and awful.
Time passed, although I wasn’t sure how long. I wasn’t aware of anything other than the heat building inside my body and the craving for him. When I got too close, I pulled my hand away and pressed it to the mattress, gulping down air. My heart raced, sweat dampened my temples, and—
New, different awareness rolled through me. A tingle activated an alarm, and my eyes popped open to discover Royce’s blue eyes fixed on me. His expression dripped with sex and lust and want. He looked at me like I was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
Warmth flooded my face. He’d seen me touch myself before, but that was when we’d been in the shower and during sex. This was different. I wasn’t embarrassed, but I was surprisingly shy. Vulnerable and exposed and showing him something no one else had seen.
I was showing him the effect he had over me. Did he realize how much power he held?
His penetrative stare was a heat lamp, both exposing and lighting me up, and two words fell from his mouth in a dark command that could have easily been a growl. “Don’t stop.”
Oh, Jesus.
Fire ripped through me, and goosebumps burst all along my legs. I had my knees drawn up and my feet on the bed, causing his shirt to gape wide, the edges caught on my breasts. It made the tie hang between them like a long necklace. I held his gaze through my parted legs as my fingers oh-so-slowly dipped back beneath the lace. Electricity swirled between us while I followed his order. His jaw set, and I wondered if he’d done it to hold back a groan.
But I only complied long enough to watch the satisfaction twist on his face. We’d spent too much time thinking about each other while satisfying ourselves. Desire thickened my voice. “Make love to me.”
His answer was immediate. “No.”
I froze. What did he mean, no? Breath caught in my lungs.
It released when his hands went to the tie he wore and jerked the knot free. It was thrown to the floor, and then he went to work, shedding the suit jacket, and his nimble fingers sped down the buttons of his shirt.
“That’s not what I want,” he said. “Not what I think about when I picture you in my bed.” A dark look burned in his eyes. It was dangerous and thrilling. “I’m not going to be delicate or gentle. That was yesterday. Tonight, I’m going to be hard and rough and exactly how I’ve imagined it, where you’re shaking and moaning, and I get to find out if I can make you scream. That’s how you want it, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathed. There was no other answer.
He smirked as he tugged off his shoes, undid his pants, and kicked them off. I started to undo the tie I wore, but he shook his head. “Oh, no, Marist. You put that on for me, so it fucking stays on.”
I touched the tip of my tongue to the roof of my mouth, keeping a moan from leaking out.
He was a blur as he climbed onto the bed and crawled up my body, and when his hot mouth closed over mine, I didn’t have a chance at keeping my moan at bay. His hands . . . his fucking hands went everywhere. He wasn’t exploring, he was triumphant. Ares reveling in the spoils of war.
His palm was warm against my thigh, and he curled it behind my knee, pulling my leg up until it was hooked around his waist. Pleasure slipped through me as his erection pressed against my center, right where I was aching.