Puzzled, she frowned. Why was he asking her name when he already knew it?
As she stared up at the man who haunted her dreams, the memory of their first night together slammed into her. Did he want to pretend they were strangers again?
She almost laughed. If only they could be.
“No names,” she said, waiting for his response to see if she was correct.
He pressed himself against her, letting her feel his erection. Thank God he wasn’t as immune to her as he appeared. She wouldn’t be able to handle it if he was. Then again, it was just sex, wasn’t it? And for a man who owned a sex club and had been with multiple women since she’d left him, sex meant nothing. She couldn’t forget that. She couldn’t allow herself to become confused about what this was.
This was Sawyer’s revenge. Other than to remind her of all she’d lost, she didn’t know exactly what he hoped to accomplish by bending her to his will for seven nights. But if it was the only way to save him, she’d do it.
“Have you ever fucked a stranger before?” he asked huskily.
She shook her head, her throat suddenly dry.
“You like that idea?” he continued. “Does it make you wet?”
The idea of fucking a stranger didn’t make her wet. It was the idea of fucking Sawyer that had soaked her thighs.
He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Show me. Lift up the hem of your dress and check.”
Without thought, she clenched the fabric of her dress in her fists, raising it up her legs inch by inch and exposing her pussy.
“Dirty girl. You’re not wearing any panties. You were waiting to be fucked, weren’t you?”
Assuming it was a rhetorical question, she didn’t bother answering, keeping the fantasy alive rather than explaining she had gone without because of fashion. Visible panty lines would’ve killed the look of the dress.
Keeping the fabric bunched up at the waist with one hand, she used the other to stroke over her folds. She was drenched.
It didn’t surprise her. Not only had she gone without sex for more than four years, this was Sawyer. How many times had she brought herself to climax over the years by replaying their time together?
But her memories had nothing on the real thing.
He shocked her by dropping to his knees in front of her and holding her dress up so she could free her other hand. “Keep going. I want to see you touch yourself.”
Her shyness took a backseat to the deep throbbing need that had her circling her clit with two fingers and gathering her wetness with two others. The sight of a strong man like Sawyer on his knees in front of her made her feel powerful in this powerless situation.
What was wrong with indulging in the fantasy that they were strangers? That they didn’t have a past hanging over them like a storm cloud. Right now they were strangers, not a wife in love with a husband who despised her.
He grabbed her wrist and brought her soaked fingers to his closed mouth, smearing her arousal over his lips and making them glossy. Then, emitting a rumble of approval, he slowly and methodically glided his tongue along the plumpness of his lips, like her taste was a treat to be savored. The fingers on her clit were a pale comparison to the visual, and she shook from the heat that flooded her body.
Sawyer lowered his face between her curls and inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily and strands of his blond hair tickling the inside of her thighs. She was desperate to feel his mouth on her, aching for his touch.
And then she didn’t have to wait anymore.
He parted her labia, and his head descended, his hot tongue running up her slit before lapping at her clitoris with the precision of an expert.
She threw her head back against the books and covered her lips with her hand, muffling her cries of ecstasy.
He stopped his ministrations, lifting his face from her pussy to look up at her. “Take that hand away from your fuckable mouth. Those noises you’re holding inside belong to me, and goddamn it, I want to hear them. Let me hear how much you like my tongue.”
She gasped as he pushed a thick finger inside her and returned his tongue to the exact spot where she needed it. “Oh God. Yes.” Her muscles clenched as she approached climax. “I don’t like your tongue. I fucking love it.”
“So tight,” he murmured against her folds. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you haven’t been fucked in a while.”
“I haven’t,” she whispered, too far gone to think about what she had admitted.
He stilled. “How long? How long has it been since you’ve had anyone inside of you?”
Panic clouded her thoughts. “I don’t—”
“How long?” he asked gruffly.