“No.” He tosses the fob in my direction.
I let it thunk to the driveway at my feet and give him my best glare.
His mouth sets in a thin, severe line.
Oh shit. My pulse trips.
He clasps his hands behind his back and prowls toward me, slowly, methodically, his eyes boring into mine.
Double shit. I lower my arms to my sides and scan the yard. We’re behind the estate, hidden from the street. The towering oaks form a living wall of privacy between the lots. Not that I’m afraid to be alone with him when he’s like this. Or maybe I am, but any fear I have is smothered by the heady mix of give and take that melds us together so beautifully.
Doesn’t mean I have to accept a car, though. I glare down at the key fob.
“Eyes on me!”
My focus flies to the sculpted lines of his face and the pulsing vein in his brow. It’s been a few days since I riled him up, but I know that look. As he circles me, I’m both dancing and cringing inside, anticipating a strangling hand on my throat or a hard smack on the ass. Maybe he’ll finally have sex with me, right here in broad daylight. I’d welcome any or all of it. I’ve been in such a heightened state of arousal since I moved in, I might just strip off my clothes and make the decision for him.
He stops behind me, not touching, but close enough to stir my hair with his breaths. “I’ve had my fingers in your cunt, my cock in your mouth, and your taste on my lips. I’m the only person on the planet who knows how beautiful you look when you come. All those freckles on your thighs, the sounds you make when you sleep, the passion you evoke with a piano, everything about you is priceless and irreplaceable. So I’m going to wrap you in nice things and protect you in a safe car. And you are going to thank me with those gorgeous lips around my dick when you get home.”
My heart rises and dips with each word, my breaths stuttering noisily.
“This is who I am, Ivory, and you are the essential and most important part of me.” He steps back. “Now bend over.”
My knees wobble at his words. I reach for the black Chucks on my feet, and the fancy designer denim cuts into my thighs. The downside of low-rise jeans? He’s getting an ungodly view of my butt cleavage right about now.
His palm slams against my ass with a force that steals my breath and topples me forward. But his arm catches me around the waist, and the hand on my back keeps me in a doubled-over position. Sweet Jesus, my butt cheek is on fire. The heat fans outward, circulating through my blood and gathering between my legs.
He rubs the sore spot, limited by the heavily-stitched pocket of my jeans. “Pick up the keyring.”
Hanging over the brace of his arm, I snatch the fob from the brick pavestones.
He grips my bicep and walks me toward the car. “I would redden your fucking ass if you weren’t about to show it to the doctor.” He stops at the driver’s door. “Hands on the roof.”
Shit. What now? I drop the fob on the seat and place my palms on the shiny white top, smudging the pristine paint job with sweat.
His fingers slide around my hips and release the button of my jeans. My heart kicks into a feverish crescendo. He unzips the fly and, in one shove, yanks everything to my feet.
Standing outside in the daylight, nude from the waist down… This is a first for me. I can’t decide if I’m shaking from the thrill of someone seeing, from the fear of inevitable pain, or from the burning anticipation of him touching me again. Probably all of the above.
“Bend down and grip the seat.”
As I follow his command, a sense of peace washes over me. Whatever he does next will make me feel a little less lost. Every time he takes me in hand, he opens another door that shows me more about myself. The person he reveals isn’t ashamed or weak. I’m finally figuring out what I want.
His Doc Martens scuff against the bricks as he lowers behind me. His hands wrap around my thighs, and in the next heartbeat, he buries his nose in my *.
A slap of embarrassment flushes my face. But it quickly transforms into a torrent of desire as his exhale brushes against my flesh. A deep inhale follows, and his fingers tighten against my legs.
He’s smelling me. Down there. Deeply and repeatedly. I never would’ve imagined being so wildly turned on by this, but I’m shaking and panting against the strange and incredible sensation. He’s shaking, too, and… Oh fuck, he’s licking me, kissing my * the way he kisses my mouth. Another—holy fucking shit—first.
I bite my lip to silence my cry as he stabs his tongue between my legs. He laves my folds, brutally bites sensitive skin, and scratches me with his stubble. It’s pain and pleasure, soprano and bass, and every octave in between. I’m going to come. I feel the pull, and I reach for that wondrous place, grinding my * against his face and digging my fingers into the leather seat. Almost there. Almost—