“You haven’t answered me, Sloane. Are you going to do what I tell you?”
“Yes. Yes, I’ll do what you tell me.” Two days. We haven’t slept with each other in two days, and it’s just too long. I’ve been wanting him, needing him, fantasizing about him every moment I haven’t been focused on saving someone’s life. And I’m betting he’s been focused on all the things he wants to do to me too, especially while he’s been smashing his fist into things.
Zeth leans forward and bites my lower lip, hard, still pinching my nipple. I suck in a sharp breath, letting the bright sensation of pain cascade through me. He stops biting me, but runs his tongue over my lip instead, tasting me in that highly sexual way he has. The way he licks at my mouth is the same way he licks at my clitoris when he first goes down on me—slow and drawn out. His eyes are locked onto mine, burning and intense, and I can’t help the strangled noise that comes out of me.
“Fuck, Zeth.”
He instantly stops what he’s doing, removing himself from me, taking a step back. My nipple throbs with the ache that he’s left behind, begging for more of the same. There was a time when I would have shied away from the strange urge to let him own me, to let him have complete power over me, but not anymore. Now, I crave it in the same way my body craves oxygen.
No one else knows this side of me. My friends, my family my work colleagues…everyone knows the strong, resilient, commanding Sloane. They would never imagine me to be like this with anyone. But being strong, resilient and commanding at all times is exhausting, especially when I feel like I’m making things up as I go along most days. Zeth takes the pressure of being me of my shoulders when he owns me like this. He gives me permission to be vulnerable.
The night air teases at the loose strands of hair that have fallen out of my ponytail, as I stand completely still. Zeth stalks around me, looking me up and down with hungry eyes. I can see the goose bumps on his shoulders, and I know it’s not because it’s cold. It’s because he’s turned on and he’s thinking about what he’s going to do to me.
He circles me once, twice, and I resist the urge to reach out and touch him. My hands stay by my sides, though it takes everything I’ve got to hold back. He stops behind me, close enough that I can feel his hot breath on the back of my neck. “Take your clothes off for me, Sloane. I want to watch.”
My breathing stutters out of me in one long, broken sigh. Zeth circles me one last time before he takes a seat on the tree stump he was using as a base to chop the wood on. Even though he’s only five feet away, he still doesn’t feel close enough. I want his hands on my body again. I want to feel him growing more and more impatient as he teases his fingers across my burning skin. I know I won’t get any of that until I’ve done what he wants me to do, though.
I start with my sweater. It’s warm enough in Seattle right now to not need a coat. I don’t have anything on under the sweater, either, so when I slowly, carefully lift it over my head, I’m left standing there in nothing but my bra.
Zeth’s eyelids lower a little, looking heavy as he watches me. The power of his gaze on my skin is enough to put fire in my veins. I love the way he looks at me. Love the way his eyes travel over my body like he’s imagining consuming me in the most erotic ways possible.
I kick off my shoes, not caring that the grass is slightly damp on my bare feet. My jeans are next. I don’t even attempt to make a show out of it. I’d end up tripping over my own pants, and besides, trying to put on a striptease for him would look porny and fake. That’s not what he wants. He just wants to see me. I can’t tear my eyes off him as he watches my hands move over my body, removing my clothes one piece at a time. He looks fascinated by the process. I’m not even mildly embarrassed as I slip out of my bra and panties. I feel liberated. I feel alive. My body aches for him as he considers me, lit only by the soft glow of the gas lamp that sits on the ground between us.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers. “Come here.”