I feel so goddamn foggy.
My body hums with indecision, the wrong decision pulling me closer and closer to her.
“I’ve expressed annoyance, frustration, irritation, but not hate. You’re the one who has expressed hate.” My finger toys with the silk ribbon. “I have no problem with you.”
“Liar,” she says.
“Why don’t you trust me?”
“You haven’t given me reason to,” she says. Her hand glides up my chest, stopping at my shoulder, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
My teeth roll over my bottom lip as I gently tug on the tie of her robe.
She doesn’t protest.
Instead, her body moves closer to mine.
Fuck. My control is barely hanging on; it’s teetering, ready to snap.
Ready to combust.
“Have I gone back on anything I’ve said?”
“No,” she says breathlessly, her chest arching away from the wall. The movement pulls at the fabric of the robe. My eyes slide down to her chest, where the lapels of the robe dance dangerously open. Hell, what do those gorgeous tits look like bare? Are they sensitive? If I brought them into my mouth, would she moan in satisfaction?
Unable to hold back, I tug on the tie one more time, loosening one end. The small opening teases me, tempts me even further. It ignites the fire pulsing through my veins.
Fuck, what are you doing, Huxley?
Something you shouldn’t be doing.
But, fuck, she’s so tempting. I know there’s nothing under this robe, nothing but her smooth body. I glance down at her breasts, and I’m rewarded to see her pebbled nipples rubbing against the silk of the fabric. They’re so small, so goddamn sexy.
Attempting to focus on our conversation, I say, “So if I’ve never gone back on anything I’ve promised so far, why no trust?”
Her hand floats to the back of my neck, where she slowly plays with the short strands of my hair. “Because you’re deceitful.”
“Normally, I’m not.” My fingers itch to tug on the tie one more time so the robe opens. But I hold still.
“Excuse me if I can’t take your word for it.”
Rolling my teeth over my lips, I ask, “Okay, so how can I prove it to you that you can trust me?”
Her eyes become heady as she removes her hand from my neck and runs it up her body, to the gape of fabric barely covering her chest. Tantalizing me, her fingers caress her cleavage. My goddamn mouth waters. “Don’t go back on your promises.”
“But I haven’t.”
Her eyes connect with mine, and she says, “Even your silent ones.” Then, to my surprise, she undoes her robe, the sides fall open, exposing the centerline of her body.
Fuck.
Fuck me.
In seconds, I grow hard. But instead of walking away or mauling her, I decide to torture myself and slowly take her in, starting at her chest, where the robe hangs on to her breasts, barely covering them, tormenting me. Then my hungry eyes move down her taut stomach to her completely smooth pussy. My mouth waters from the sight of her. She’s only offering a brief preview, but it’s enough to drive me crazy. To push me over the goddamn edge.
She’s testing me. She’s seeing how far I’ll go.
Little does she know . . .
I started this.
I was the one who pinned her against the wall.
I was the one who pulled on the tie.
And I’m the one who should finish this.
“Just what I thought,” she says. “You can’t follow through on what you start. Like the business meeting.”
“I told you, I couldn’t prevent what happened today.”
“You could’ve, you chose not to.”
My teeth grind.
“And right now, I’m standing here, almost completely naked in front of you. Isn’t that what you wanted? To control me? To control my body? And instead of following through, you go still.”
Is she fucking kidding me right now?
She thinks I’m all talk?
How little she knows me.
“Not still, Lottie.” I step closer. “Stiff. I go fucking stiff.” With that, I slide my hand onto her bare hip, continuing to keep her hand pinned above her head.
She gasps from my abrupt touch, and when I slide my hand to her backside and down that sweet ass of hers, she nibbles on her bottom lip.
“And I didn’t start this,” I say, even though I did. “You showed up to dinner, wearing nothing but this robe.”
“I showed up yesterday in a negligee. How is this different?”
I float a finger near her crack as I move my hand north, to her lower back, where I grip her tightly, pulling her close to me.
“This was intentional.”
“As much as you’d like to believe it, Huxley, it is not my intention to try to turn you on. It’s to spend as little time with you as possible.”
“Then why aren’t you leaving now?” I ask, bringing my hand to the front of her body, and I smoothly drag my fingers to just above her pelvic bone. A wave of lust hits her—it’s in her eyes, in the way she gently shifts, spreading her legs slightly.
“Calling your bluff,” she answers. “You’d never touch me—”
“Touch you like what?” I ask as my finger slides over her aroused slit.
She sucks in a sharp breath as her head falls back to the wall and her pelvis sticks out.
“Touch you like this?” I sweep another finger, but this time I slide deeper, connecting against her clit. Fuck. She’s so soft. “Because never underestimate what I won’t do.” Watching how responsive her body is to my touch, I say, “Tell me you want more.”
She shakes her head. “No. I’d never give you that satisfaction.”
“I see.” Two can play this game. Keeping her pinned, I stare down at her smooth pussy as I bring two fingers together and slide them up and down her slit, allowing her clit to catch between them. I gently squeeze and pulse.
“Oh God,” she whispers. Her head whips to the side and her grip on my hand grows tighter.
I pulse my fingers, teasing her entrance. She spreads just a little wider for me and I take that as an invitation. I slip one finger inside her.
Fuck yes, she’s tight.
And wet.
Really fucking wet.
Moving in closer, my lips are tempted to press against her heated skin, but I refrain. This is about proving a point. This is about showing her exactly what I can do to her body with just my hand.
I drag my finger out and then smooth my thumb over her clit. She sucks in a hiss of breath as I apply more pressure and make small, circular motions.
“Yes,” she whispers, her hips begging for more. But I keep my touch light, allowing the gentle pressure I have on her to drive her nuts.
Slow circles.
Round and around.
Building her.
Climbing her.
Driving her crazy.
Her teeth drag over her bottom lip. Her chest heaves, her robe barely covering her tits now. Any sharp movement and I’ll see all of her. And the grip she has on me, on my hand, is so tight that there might be bruises in the morning.
But it’ll be worth it.
Because watching her like this—submitting to me, letting me touch her, bring her to her peak—it’s all fucking worth it.
“More,” she whispers. “Give me more.”
Just what I wanted to fucking hear. I release her hand, and before she can protest, I turn her around so she’s facing the wall, both hands splayed out as her cheek lands lightly against the white surface. From behind, I cup her pussy and pull her ass against my crotch so she can feel how hard I am.
Her raspy gasp brings me pleasure as I slide my finger across her clit again and again.
“Do you hate me right now?” I ask her, toying with the little nub, making her entire body tremble against mine.
“More now than ever.”
“Because I know how to bring you pleasure?” I ask, my lips pressing against her ear.
“Yes.” I slide two fingers inside her now. She lets out a low moan.
“You wish that I wasn’t fucking you with my fingers right now?”
I start to pull them out but she lets out a protest. “No, I do.”
“You do, what?” I ask, my cock so goddamn hard that it’s pressing painfully against the zipper of my pants.