“Anndd?” He stretches the word out, rubbing my palm back and forth over his erection.
I gasp at the feel of him. “I don’t take orders well.”
“In the future, I’d like to be acknowledged.” His hand brings mine lower, low enough to curl my fingers around the bulge of his balls.
My sigh is soft, and I know he’s right. I’d be pissed as hell if he didn’t answer my text. “In the future,” I repeat, wondering if I might laugh, and trying really hard not to, “I will answer your texts, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to do what you demand all the time.”
He moves forward. I move back. When we stop again, he rubs my palm along the ridge of his hard cock, and I moan so loud, it makes him smile. “I ask, I don’t demand.”
“No, you don’t,” I breathe.
He moves forward again. I move back in stride.
“My room is at the end of the hall, and in there you can find out if I went braless,” I inform him.
His voice dips to a low rumble, making it gravelly and irresistible. “I already know you did. I’ve been staring at your gorgeous nipples all night.”
Feeling a bit like I’m on a cloud, I start to move faster.
He follows, slowly. Like a predator stalking his prey.
Watching him as his entirely too hot, too sexy body prowls my way makes my pulse zing. I can practically feel the air sizzle with each step we take.
I open my door, walking backward. He follows, walking forward. I step toward my bed, still moving backward. He closes the distance between us.
“Take your top off.” The demand liquefies my insides.
I fight to keep my control, but find myself pulling my top over my head.
He sucks in a breath. “Now your jeans and panties.”
I shake my head no, and in the process end up falling onto the bed. “Why should I do your work?”
He reaches the bed and places his palms on either side of me, leaning forward. “Because I need to see you naked again before I fuck you. Hard and fast.”
If I hadn’t already been wet, I am now, and any semblance of calm and cool I have been putting forward quickly diminishes. My lips part, my breathing hitches, and my nipples peak. I am, without a doubt, 100 percent turned on.
Keen straightens, takes a step back, and lowers his eyes in a lustful way. “Now, once again, stand up and take your jeans off and then your panties.”
His demand completely obliterates my resolve to be the one in control this time around. Still, I really do not take orders well.
His gaze roams my body. “Maggie, let me see you again. I can’t stand it,” he growls.
Goose bumps rise on my flesh, and I know it is hopeless to even pretend I am not going to do what he asks. Because God help me, I am.
You would too, and you know it.
With those eyes blazing and watching my every move, I stand up and toe my Converse off. Naked from the waist up, I unbutton my jeans. Then, as his eyes grow even more lustful, I slide them from my hips, and then remove my panties.
“Oh, fuck, you are just as beautiful as I remember. Do you know that?”
Under his gaze I feel beautiful. Still, I say nothing.
He sucks in a breath. “Tell me you know how beautiful you are.”
“I know you think I’m beautiful.”
“Not just me, Maggie. Every man that looks at you.”
I meet his stare, and nod.
“Sit back down,” he commands.
“Okay,” I whisper with a thrill as I sit on my bed. Arousal makes me hot and I wish I had turned the fan on.
“That’s it,” he says, stepping toward me with that rock-hard body of his.
While I wait for him to pounce, my whole body feels like a furnace—that’s how hot I am for him.
He slides his hands up my thighs and my pulse races.
I reach up to steal a kiss, but he pulls back.
Chewing on his lip, he stares down at my naked body. “Take your finger and circle it over your clit. Just a few times. Not too much.”
Now, I’ve openly admitted to being a sexpot, but I do not take orders from men well, or I didn’t. With him, I hate to admit it, but I’m kind of okay with it.
Do.
Not.
Tell.
I flash him a heated smile. “No need. I’m already wet.”
“Do it anyway,” he demands.
My heart races. This is about control. This means giving up all of my control. And I’m not quite sure I’m ready for that, so instead, I stand up.
His eyes flare. “Maggie.”
I meet his hungry gaze and turn the tables. “Sit down.”
He narrows his eyes at me.
I swallow, and then point toward the bed.
His lips quirk up in bemusement.
I keep my finger pointed. “I mean it.” I’m not quite sure how this is going to go down, so it surprises me when he actually lowers himself onto the bed.