He drank me in with his dirty gaze. As his eyes traveled over me, I felt consumed. Devoured.
To be wanted like this was wholly new.
And absolutely incredible.
“You are so unbelievably beautiful,” he said in a smoky rasp.
“So are you,” I whispered, and the admission surprised me. I’d always known he was handsome, but this time I felt it. I felt it in my core, in my heart. I experienced the attraction to him, and it didn’t scare me. It thrilled me.
“Get on the table. On your back, dirty girl. Spread your legs open for me. Let me see if you want a gift or not. If you don’t, I’ll just leave.”
I gasped, and pleasure ripped through my body as he taunted me. I wanted his gift. Wanted it terribly. And I didn’t want him to be disappointed in what he saw. Heat pooled between my legs, making me wetter.
I perched on the edge of the table, like I was posing. I wasn’t going to scoot unceremoniously or climb like a dork. I knew how to pose, how to move. And I could adjust myself too.
Like that, with my body long, I leaned my head back, letting my hair cascade down to the table, my neck stretching. I could no longer see him, but I could hear him.
His noises were animalistic. Groans of admiration.
I felt sexy as he stared at my body while I moved like water, fluidly, lowering my back, sliding along the table, stretching across it, like I’d encouraged my clients to do.
My back bowed, and I raised one knee.
A new wave of pleasure washed over me from the pose. It was a familiar boudoir shot, a woman all curved and sensual. But I was on the other side of the lens and he was the camera. He gazed at me like a man possessed.
Then he spoke, low and powerful. “Touch yourself, so I can taste if you’re ready for me to stay.”
My hand slid down my body, and I stroked myself, bucking the second I made contact with my sensitive flesh. It was torture and relief at the same time—all I wanted was more touch, more contact.
I held out my hand to him, and he stalked over, grabbed my wrist, and licked my finger. He moaned as he sucked off my wetness.
“Good,” he growled, then he returned to where he’d stood in full view of me. “But that’s not enough.”
“What else should I do?”
“You know what to do, dirty girl.” He parked his hands on the edge of the wood, his stare hot, branding me. “Show. Me.”
Vulnerability rippled over me as I lowered my hands between my legs, setting my palms on my thighs. But with vulnerability came something new—possibility.
By offering myself, he could give me what I craved.
I opened my legs wider, parting them with my own hands. Like I was offering him my body, my desire.
And the evidence of it.
For the briefest of seconds, he closed his eyes, like this was all too intense, seeing me like this. My worry spiked.
“Adam,” I whispered, my pitch rising.
His eyes snapped open. “We’re good, Nina.”
I relaxed again. That was all I needed in these moments when the games, the fantasies became too much for me. When he shed that rough exterior and returned to the man I knew, the man I trusted. I had his assurance, and I was good too.
He shifted once again to the after-dark alpha who enthralled me.
Like a predator, he surveyed his prey. I was the hunted and I wanted to be ravaged. Stepping closer, he moved his hand from behind his back and dropped a hard black item and a small bottle onto the table.
I gasped. I’d known what was coming because it was my fantasy, detailed in black and white in my notebook, but I didn’t know how he pulled it off. “That’s not mine. How did you get that toy?”
“Amazon Prime. Two-hour delivery. Came this morning when you were in the shower. Now let’s get you coming on my mouth, dirty girl.” His hands circled my ankles, and he pushed my legs apart even farther. “Stay like that. I don’t want you to move. Are we clear?”
I nodded. “So clear.”
“Keep your hands on your thighs. Keep your legs spread nice and wide.”
“Yes,” I said, tingles spreading over my body as I grew wetter, hotter.
Then he bent his face to my ankle, pressed a kiss there that sent sparks across my whole body. My God, if a kiss on my ankle did that to me, what would happen when his face was between my legs?
I’d have the answer in seconds, because he traveled quickly, licking a line up my calf, over the back of my knee, along my thigh. He reached my hand, kissing me there before coming close, so damn close to where I wanted him. But not all the way. He flicked his tongue inches from my core, then moved to the other side, licking down my leg.