Mortified to realize I was speaking the thoughts in my head out loud for him to hear, I closed my eyes tightly in frustration.
"You're going to have to open your eyes before you start walking, though," he said, clearly amused by my dilemma. "Go upstairs to my bedroom, Winter. We're not doing this anywhere but in my bed tonight. At least the first time."
The promise of something I'd desired for so long staring me right in the face was so different than how I'd imagined it would be. James was different. He was so demanding…and dominant.
I loved everything about this new, bossy James.
From the stern look on his handsome face, to the piercing eyes raking over my mostly naked body, along with the promise of something I'd always believed forbidden with him.
Some really hot, filthy, dirty, amazing sex.
But James must have similar thoughts about the "forbidden" aspect of being together. Both of us were in uncharted territory. We'd always been friends. And right now we were friends who were about to fuck. How would things be after the hot sex was over? Would James still care about me in the same way? Would I?
"If you're having second thoughts, you tell me now. Remember my rules, Winter," he warned.
"I remember."
"Repeat them." Another command delivered with the darkness of tone I'd quickly come to appreciate, because I had made an important discovery. Bossy James was hotter than hell and slapped every sexual button. Hard.
I licked my bottom lip and dragged it under my top teeth before answering. "First rule, complete honesty. I'm to tell you if I want you to stop, or if I need more. Second, is that you are in charge." His second rule had me on the verge of incineration already, and I was beginning to recognize why. My years'-long attraction to him, the hot blushes that consumed me whenever I found myself on the receiving end of one of his penetrating stares, the flash of understanding how powerfully those penetrating stares had affected me. My submission was as natural as my attraction. I wanted it.
Needed it. From James only.
"Very good." He pointed in the direction of the stairs. "After you, beautiful."
Feeling strangely detached from the insanity of exactly where I was, and what I was about to do, I took a first faltering step toward the stairs. And then another. I focused only on taking steps; moving my body through the motions of climbing the winding staircase that would take me to James's bedroom. His determined footsteps from behind pushed me forward. The delicious scent of his spicy cologne intoxicated me. The heat from his eyes staring at my ass framed in nothing but a little bit of skimpy lace burned my skin. I couldn't see him staring, but I felt him.
I wanted James Blakney, and he wanted me.
This might be my only experience of knowing what it felt like having his hot stare on my ass. Supremely sexy and strangely empowering. I hoped not, but I'd learned early on that what we wanted and what we actually got were often very different. Not far apart right now, though. I pushed my doubts aside and embraced the moment instead, found strength in knowing my time for wondering was over.
The closed door at the end of the hallway loomed before me. The final barrier to what would happen between us. I realized that we'd pass our point of no return.
James must have had similar thoughts.
"Last chance to change your mind," he said softly against my ear, his lips nearly brushing the shell, "because once I have you behind that door, you'll definitely feel my touch." He pinned me to the door, crowding me with solid arms that boxed me in. "For hours," he added as he pressed his body against mine. Those last two words pulled a desperate shuddering moan out of me, especially combined with the purposeful press of his very hard body behind me. Sandwiched between a cold wooden door and the heat of his erection that stole the breath right out of me.
He must have turned the doorknob because I felt the coldness of the wood fall away from the front of my body as he pushed me forward. I tried to register my surroundings, because I was being led into his inner sanctum of sorts. He might not come here often, but it was still his private, intimate space. For a split second I thought about the others he must have brought here over the years, but I couldn't deal with imagining it. I had no patience for doubt. Forget everything else.
James broke through the pounding silence of my indecision with a clear directive. "Get on the bed and lie back. I want to look at you."
Somehow, I moved my body and did as he asked. I lowered myself onto the black covered bed that looked like a huge industrial modern sculpture. Tall bedposts at the four corners with metalwork incorporated into the head and footboards dominated the entire space of the room. I shivered against the coolness of the fabric as it met my back. I was so very exposed, but it felt completely right, as if this was the only way for us to ever do this act together.
I watched James as he looked his fill with fiery eyes that roved hungrily over my body. As he moved closer to the edge of the bed, I could feel the heat coming off his stare. And then he grinned…and licked his lips. "Arms up over your head, hold on to the headboard, and let me take care of you, beautiful. That's what I want from you."
The ache at my core grew stronger, as did the tightening of my nipples as I drew my arms upward to find a place to grip the headboard. My body yearned for his touch, but I knew instinctively he'd deny it altogether if I voiced it. I'm in charge in the bedroom. It's the only way I can do this with you.
I wanted his mouth. His tongue. Some part of him. Any part of him.
Before I died a slow, agonizing death due to sexual frustration.
"I'm taking a picture of you in my head. I don't ever want to forget how you looked in this moment." He'd taken off his tuxedo jacket and removed his tie at some point. His shirt was half-way unbuttoned. I appreciated the glimpse of his chest where his shirt gaped open. I wished he'd strip for me right now. Now that would be an added sweet torture I'd love to experience.
"And how do I look in this moment?" I asked.
"Flawless." He toed off his shoes, tore open his shirt, and pulled it off. The sounds of threads ripping and buttons scattering pulled a wave of anticipation that hit me so hard between my thighs I arched my back and rolled through the sweet ache. "Like you're meant to be here." The bed dipped from his weight as he put one knee on the mattress, and then the other. Straddling me, his arms and legs boxed me in underneath him. "Ready for me to take you," he added darkly.
I moaned at his last comment. I wished he would take me. I needed him to. Desperate and unable to wait patiently for even another second, I begged, "Please, take me."
"Do you know how long I've wanted to have you just like this? Naked in my bed and dying for me to make you come? Desperate for my cock?"
"Too fucking long, James."
"I know," he said as his mouth came down onto mine, pushing in hard and deep with his tongue—owning me.
Finally.
I welcomed the surge of primal energy that bolted through me the instant I gave myself over to him.
The very instant of the act of him taking what I wanted to give.
His mouth moved down to my neck and then to my shoulder as he trailed kisses and gentle bites with his teeth. I felt each mark as he made them, each pinch soothed by soft caresses of his tongue to temper the cruel heat of want and desire. As his lips moved over my breasts, so did firm hands, cupping and lifting each peak in turns to his mouth to suck. He took as much as he was able into his mouth and sucked hard before drawing back until just my nipple was left between his teeth. He teased me relentlessly with more soft bites and sucks and kisses. I knew he was marking me.