The command sent a shiver through her lower body. She’d ceded to his demands before. This was different. He knew she’d do anything if he told her to. He understood she gave him that power willingly. They both knew she could do the same thing to him. This was something exciting and dangerous and absolutely wonderful.
Top button, second, third. His gaze ate up the movement of her fingers. She left the tie loose but knotted. Pulling the bottom of the shirt from her skirt, she watched every mutation of his eyes. Hot, blue-hot, then blazing. His hand slid from her waist to the band of her skirt, skimming her butt, then her hip, to slip inside the long slit which had ridden almost to the apex of her legs. Like a brand, his touch stopped on her thigh.
Buttons dispensed with, the lapels of the shirt pushed aside, her tie now lay against the lace of her pink bra. He abandoned her thigh to trace the silk down between her breasts. Blunt fingers grazed her exposed flesh.
He was taking too long. “Now what?” she prompted.
He gave her a lazy smile. “Begging?”
She bit her lip, and in a breathy voice said, “You make me crazy. I think I’m going to come before you even put your hand in my panties.”
His breath hissed out. She got to him. Badly.
“Can’t wait?”
She shook her head, dizzy with how deeply he affected her.
“Want it now?”
She nodded.
“How bad?”
“Really bad,” she whispered.
He shut his eyes, sighed with what might have been another groan. “Gonna do anything I want?” He waited with closed lids for her answer.
If it was anyone else, she would have suspected an unhealthy ego and a need to dominate. But not Witt. He was asking for something else entirely. She gave it to him. “Yeah. Anything you want. Tell me and I’ll do it.”
“Christ.” He opened his eyes. “Undo your bra.”
She flipped the front clasp, then pushed the lace aside, spilling free, exposing herself. Trusting him, she murmured, “Do you want to touch?”
His answer was to lean down and put his mouth around her nipple. Ahh. She wanted to whimper, then she allowed the sound to rise up out of her throat. She squirmed in her seat as he sucked, hard, barely below the level of pain. Then he lifted his head, smiled, and cupped her breast, plumping the flesh. “Your nipples are bigger.”
“They are not.”
He sucked one into his mouth, worried it with his teeth before letting go. The night air cooled where he’d licked her.
“They’re bigger. They fill my mouth like cherries and taste as sweet.”
“You don’t have to flatter me. I’m already going to let you have your wicked way with me.”
He stroked her lightly. “Promises, promises. Know what I want you to do now?”
Tell me, tell me. Her pulse beat a healthy rhythm, her legs were jelly, and she was burning up between the thighs. She put a hand to his chest. “I have one question first.”
His hand was on the move again, back to her skirt and that slit. Her thigh. Of their own volition, her legs parted ever so slightly. His thumb, still not quite close enough, caressed and probed. “What’s your question?”
“If I do everything you say, do I still get an orgasm out of this?”
He sputtered, choked, then started laughing.
“I mean, I have mentioned to you at some point, haven’t I, how much I really like the orgasms you give me?”
“Wouldn’t be half as good if you don’t come, too”—then added without a breath between—“take off your pantyhose.”
She wriggled against him, feeling the give and take of power. “Since your hand’s already up there, why don’t you take them off?”
He continued to smile as he pushed her up and away from him. “I wanna watch.”
She crooked her knees beneath her and let her shoes fall to the floor of the passenger side. Her shirt hung open, the tie dangling between her breasts. “You’re a kinky voyeur.”
“Then be the exhibitionist for me.”
She slipped sideways, landed on her butt next to him on the seat, then put her hands beneath her skirt to find the elastic waistband. Peeling slowly, the black nylon revealed first her lower thighs, her knees, her calves. He leaned back in the seat casually, but his jeans couldn’t hide the effect. She slipped the material from her toes, held her hand up, then let the tights fall to the floor. She’d managed to show him not a centimeter of her pink thong.
Silence reigned for a brief moment. She thought he might reach out to touch her. Instead he patted his lap. “Sit here.”
“Been there, done that. I’ve already been laying in your lap.”
“Thought you were going to do anything I said.”
She shrugged, loving the game. No, not a game. Fun. Without the need to control or the sting of shame. Isn’t that what lovemaking really was? She batted her eyes, coquettish. “Make it more fun.”
“Spread your legs and sit on me.”