Femme Fatale (Pericolo #1) by Kirsty-Anne Still
CHAPTER ONE
“You really are a kinky bitch,” he swears as he traps me into the corner of the elevator. “The others weren’t lying.”
His hands grab at me greedily, readying me for the submission to his sexual arousal. I feel the sudden jab of his erection as it fights against the material of his pants and I close my eyes – God help us both. When I open them again, I see he’s right where I want him; grinning like a jackass who’s just won the fucking lottery.
“I’ve been waiting for this. After watching you sitting there all night with that sky high slit in your skirt, giving that seductive look, it’s gotten real hard to ignore what I want. You had to know I was ready to jump you. Especially after that little trick with the cherry stem and your tongue.” He licks his lips with anticipation, laughing like a small, excited child, and in reaction, my irritation only begins to manifest.
“I only aim to please,” I merely breathe as he reverts to plant kiss after harsh kiss to my neck. I run my hands through his hair, gripping tight to pull his head back and away from my skin. “You know I will be running the show once we’re in the room, yes?”
“Fuck, yes,” he grunts, then his eyes narrow upon me. “But for now, I’m in control.”
“Whatever,” I whisper and release his hair from my grip as the doors to the elevator slide open. Little does he know, he’ll never have control.
Immediately, he’s smothering me, groping at my body, trying to get more of what I’ve kept him waiting for – me. He was forced to play our relationship by my rules and my rules only even when he contested everything I declared. I made sure he wined and dined me before I lured him to a penthouse in the nearest hotel. It’s taken me all of two weeks to be prepared for this, to have even an ounce of confidence that once his back is pressed to the mattress he’ll be like putty in my hand. Unlike those before him, he’s been a challenge.
I push him toward our room; I’m forceful, but he told me he liked that. I’m just following what I know about him. It’s what I’m best at – appeasing every man’s dream. I sashay my way closer to the room, running my hand along the wall only to turn on the spot to throw my key toward Carlson. He gives me a wicked look, and I can tell he’s eager to get me behind a closed door. Rushing ahead, he pushes the key card in and throws the door open as I turn back to follow. He leans against the doorway, looking out at me, but I refuse to hasten my speed to appease him. What good will that do? It hardly keeps him on tenterhooks for the fun we’re about to have.
When I make it to the room, I breeze passed him, making sure my ample ass grazes his groin. I hear him groan, and before I have chance to turn back, he’s behind me, hands fumbling clumsily across my scantily dressed body. I feel his hand glide down my side, taking hold of the zipper to my black, plunging dress with it, pulling it down to reveal my naked side. As his greed begins to accelerate, I know I have to work quickly.
“Strip,” I demand as I turn within his arms before shoving him away from me. For incentive, I shimmy out of my dress, allowing it to fall free from my body and pool at my feet. I then stand, my hip cocked to the side a little, my hand resting on it, with only my underwear covering me. “Now.”
With mesmerizing speed, Carlson rushes to rid of his own clothes. The strip tease is not one that reaps the hottest of arousals, but we’re one step closer to sealing the deal of our relationship. As he haphazardly kicks his shoes off to free himself of his pants, he tries to untangle his tie. I start to tap my foot, emphasizing each minute he’s wasting. It’s a purposeful move to make him rush, make him panic; make him think he won’t get lucky if he wastes any more of my sweet time. If I’m deadly serious, I could have found something much more entertaining than this train wreck. When he’s left in nothing but his boxers and an undone shirt, I exact the final moments of my power trip.
“Get on the bed,” I command the moment he looks up at me. I point over to the large bed with an impatient look. “If you don’t, I’ll be walking back out that door. I told you, I run the show in here.”