‘There you go again!’ I push my bowl away from my place setting and it collides with the glass fruit bowl, knocking it out of position. ‘Begging!’ I watch as his eyes focus on the disturbed items on his perfect table, and he starts twitching, a flash of anger flying across his face. It makes me sit up and take notice.
More calmly than I know he’s feeling, he spends a few silent moments putting everything back into position, then he stands and my eyes follow him around the table until I can no longer see him. He’s behind me, and I tense when his palms rest on my shoulders, delivering a shot of fire through the material of his T-shirt and into my skin.
‘It is you who will be begging, sweet girl.’ His mouth is at my ear, biting at my lobe. ‘You will accept my request because we both know that you’re constantly wondering how you will survive without my attention.’ His thumbs start massaging delicious, firm circles into my shoulders.
‘Don’t pretend that this is all about my needs,’ I breathe, wanting to relax into his touch but refusing to grant my body the further pleasure that it’s craving. He said he couldn’t have me in the very beginning and in actual fact, he couldn’t stay away.
His hands are gone in a moment and I’m being lifted from the chair. ‘I don’t pretend, Livy.’ He starts a slow walk forward, forcing me to step back until I’m being gently pushed into the wall. ‘This is just as much for my needs, which is why I’m making this proposition, and it’s also why you will accept.’
My mind is doing an amazing job of preventing the desire from steaming forward. It’s there, but so is the desire for answers. ‘You’re making this sound like a business transaction.’
‘I work hard. I’m emotionally and physically drained by it. I want to have you to worship and indulge in when I’m done.’
‘I think you might be referring to a relationship,’ I whisper.
‘Call it what you like. I want you to be at my disposal.’
I’m horrified, delighted . . . unsure. For a man who’s so articulate, he has a pretty strange way with words. ‘I think I’d like to call it a relationship,’ I say, just so he knows exactly what page I’m on.
‘As you wish.’ He dips and finds my mouth, wrapping his forearm around the small of my back and lifting me, crushing me to his chest. I fall straight into the tender rhythm of his tongue, cocking my head to the side and sighing into his mouth, but my mind is still mulling over the weird words that have just been exchanged. Is Miller Hart now my boyfriend? Am I his girlfriend? ‘Stop overthinking,’ he mumbles into my mouth, turning and carrying me from the kitchen.
‘I’m not.’
‘Yes, you are.’
‘You confuse me.’ My legs curl around his waist, my arms around his body.
‘Take me as I am, Livy.’ He releases my lips and squeezes me to him. It’s a silent, pleading follow-up to his words.
‘Who are you?’ I whisper my question into his neck and return his squeeze.
‘I’m a man who’s found a beautiful, sweet girl who gives me more pleasure than I ever thought possible.’ He lowers me to the couch and lies beside me, his face close to mine, his palm stroking up the inside of my thigh. ‘And I don’t just mean with sex,’ he whispers, and I gasp. ‘I’ve made my intentions clear.’ His hand brushes over the hair at the apex of my thighs and his finger slips down my centre. My back bows. ‘She’s always ready for me,’ he murmurs, working the heated moisture over every inch of my flesh. ‘She’s always aroused by me.’ I push my forehead to his and close my eyes. ‘And she accepts that she can’t stop it. We were made to fit together. We fit perfectly together.’
My breath diminishes and my legs stiffen.
‘She responds to me without even knowing it.’ He uses his forehead to push me back from him. ‘And she knows how I feel when she deprives me of her face.’
Forcing my eyes to open and my head to remain still, I start involuntarily thrusting my h*ps gently back and forth to match his caressing of my damp, throbbing centre. He’s building me up lazily, watching me come apart. My hands are fisted on the front of his T-shirt, pulling and grappling at the cotton, making a mess of the previously creaseless garment.
‘She’s going to come,’ he muses, his eyes drifting down my body to watch his hand work me. My legs start shifting, trying to control the onslaught of pressure surging forward. And then he pushes a finger into me on a hitch of his breath, quickly swapping it for two when I cry out and start to shake. ‘That’s it, Livy.’
I lose the battle to hold my eyes open and throw my head back, mumbling senseless words as my cl**ax takes hold.
‘Show me your face.’
‘I can’t,’ I moan.
‘You can for me, Livy. Let me see you.’
I yell my despair and toss my head forward. ‘You can’t do this to me.’
He kisses me, too gently for my current frenzied state. ‘I can, I am, and I always will. Scream my name.’ He pushes his thumb onto my clitoris and circles firmly, watching me as I fight to deal with the pleasure that he’s inflicting on me.