Live Me

Blake slipped the straps off my shoulders, ghosting his hands down my arms until the material pooled at my feet. I kicked my shoes off at the same time and was left standing there in only a black lace bra and matching thong.

“Nice choice.” Blake mingled his fingers with the hair at my nape, dipping my head back. With his other hand, he dragged his pointer finger along my chin, down my neck, along my collarbone, barely touching me as he traced one long line down to the edge of my panties, eliciting a soft moan from me. He made his way back up, between my breasts, to circle my heart. “Mine.”

“Yours,” I acknowledged.

Lowering to his knees, he cupped my hips and held his lips against the wild beats between my breasts. I buried my fingers into his hair, fastening him to me. He kissed me there over and over, and my heartbeat slowed, relaxing to a soothing rhythm. Sliding his hands up my ribs, they came to rest on my breasts, kneading my nipples through the lacy material. He groaned, pulling it aside, and moved to clasp one perky bud between his lips. My head fell back as I pushed myself further into his mouth, my breathing picking up pace. In one swift motion, Blake was on his feet, sliding his hands under my arms and lifting my small frame off the floor, leaving my legs to drape down the front of his body.

Holding me at his eye level, he said, “You’ll let me know if any of this is not okay with you.” It wasn’t a question.

I nodded, wrapping my legs around him, and his lips found mine once again as he lowered us onto the mattress.

He left me then, backing away to stand at the foot of the bed, and I felt cold and exposed in his absence. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around my chest, covering myself.

Blake took in my discomfort. “I’m coming back, Angel.” And then he took his top button between his fingers and slowly released each of them until he hit the last one at his waistline. He stood there for a moment in his suit pants, his shirt open and draped around him.

My arms fell to the sides, coming up behind me so I could prop myself for a better view. Absolutely perfect. Just as I’d remembered. It never failed to blow my mind how flawless he was. How deep each cut in his abs were, the perfectly smooth coloring of his skin.

He smirked then, enjoying how I ogled him. “I’m going to take you a number of different ways before the sun comes up. But we’ll start out slow. When you leave here tomorrow morning, you’ll have no doubt who you belong to.”

My insides bunched in anticipation. I licked my lips knowing there’d be no turning back. Knowing I didn’t want to. After living my life at the mercy of someone else’s demands and control, I never imagined I’d feel this way, but I was so turned on by the possessiveness of his words. I wanted him to claim me. To do with me what he wished. To take away the need to think and calculate and plan. I wanted to give myself over to him. And it both shocked and confused me.

Before I could think too deeply, his fingers dug into the clasp of his belt. I swallowed long and hard as his pants fell effortlessly to the floor, leaving him standing there in an opened collared shirt and boxer briefs with an obvious steel line erected down the center. Then the shirt fell away and his socks were plucked off and tossed to the pile and all that was left was the strip of material covering what I wanted to see most. Blake hooked his thumbs into the elastic, toying with it and I bit my lip. Eyes on mine, he inched them down, one inch, then two, until they met the carpet as well.

There he stood, proudly before me. Every part of him standing proudly before me. I scrambled to my knees, anxious to get to him.

He held up a finger. “Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast.” He smirked. “Lie back.”

I reluctantly did as he asked, pushing my head back into the pillow and sending a wave of petals floating on a puff of air. He prowled up my body on all fours, dipping to nip and suck at me along the way, skimming velvety petals along my skin. I watched him over the panting landscape of my torso as he took his time, trailing kisses along every inch of me—down my neck, my arms, my legs, even my feet. I felt claimed, consumed.

Blake suckled the calf cupped in his hands when he looked up at me with hungry, eager eyes. He came to rest between my thighs, leaning onto one forearm as he brushed a curl from my forehead. “I need to be inside you. I want to make love to you, Angel. But it needs to be just you and me in this room. No pasts. No pain. Only pleasure. So you’re going to stare into my eyes the whole time. You’re going to see every bit of what I do to you.” He trailed a finger along my lips. “Of what you do to me.” Looking me square in the eyes, he commanded, “Understood?”

I merely nodded in response, the weight of his finger on my lips too much of a distraction. It was hard to believe only a few months ago I’d freaked out and told him never to do that again. But things were different now. I was different now.

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