Power and Possession(50)
“I understand the desperation,” he said quietly. “But it’s not so alarming”—he smiled—“to at least take turns. What do you say? I’m not interested in making you unhappy.”
She sighed. “That’s not actually possible.” A flicker of a smile appeared. “Really. Even when I’m pissed. You’re so extraordinarily handsome, it obscures objectivity. How’s that for pure folly?”
He dipped his head. “None of this has anything to do with reason. When you walked into my stateroom, I felt the world shift. And I begrudge that feeling as much as you begrudge your defenselessness.”
She grinned. “So we’re motivated by an underlying umbrage.”
He shook his head and grinned back. “Lust first, baby. Fuck the rest. So bottom line”—his grin widened—“you have to make up your mind how we’re going to play this.”
She nibbled on her lower lip, then sighed. “Okay, we’ll try it your way.”
“Fair enough,” he said very calmly. “So, are you going to come closer or what?”
“If you ask me nicely.”
“I thought I did. I know I did. Don’t be a dick.” And into the small silence that ensued, he added, “Thirty days without an orgasm.” One dark brow inched up slightly. “That’s a long time.”
A little shiver ran up her spine, whether from the thought of such an unsettling eventuality or the more challenging sight of his blatant erection visibly expanding to a spectacular height as he spoke, she wasn’t sure.
“Give in,” he whispered.
She frowned, took a breath. “It’s really hard, and I didn’t mean that so stop grinning. I’m just not sure I can do it—give in the way you want me to.”
“You mean even faced with no orgasms for thirty days.” He couldn’t imagine it.
She nodded.
“Seriously?”
“Could you? Beg?” Her voice was constrained. “Because that’s what this is.”
He didn’t immediately reply, then said, “No.”
“You see? You’re asking too much. It’s a double standard and you know it.”
He looked amused. “Is this about equality?”
“It should be.”
He rubbed a hand over his face in a nonverbal curb on his temper. “I’m not sure that’s what I want with sex. I’m not sure you do either. Could we talk about this later?”
“After I go down on you, you mean.”
“Yeah.”
There was a quiet finality in his voice, an undiluted bluntness. “When later?”
He didn’t quibble; he was tired of arguing. “We’ll talk tomorrow. And you can come as many times as you want tonight.”
Her brilliant smile could have been seen from outer space. “Why didn’t you say that before?”
“Because I didn’t feel like it before. Now stop talking before you piss me off again.”
“Yes, sir.” She licked her lips and grinned. “So, what exactly can I do for you?”
“I need your mouth here.” He pointed.
“You want a kiss?”
He smiled. “It’s a start, smart-ass.”
He watched with pleasure as she slowly rose to her knees: the enticing sway of her spectacular tits as she turned; the slender span of her waist that made his fingers twitch; the sweetness between her legs that was currently his magnetic north, his consuming passion, his addiction.
When she was resting on her knees at the edge of the bed, she put her hand flat on his hard chest. “Mine,” she said, feeling his power and strength, his potent maleness, the sexual heat escaping from him in waves.
He sucked in a breath at her touch, at the aberrant word no woman had ever dared say to him, at his heart-tripping reaction that rapped on every door he’d always kept closed. He frowned. “Dangerous territory, tiger.”
She looked up to see his golden eyes darken, and caught in the wicked burn she suddenly felt cornered, captive to the too handsome, too rich, too improbably charismatic man. But a second later, she stopped freaking out because it usually took zero effort to make it happen if she wanted a man. Not that Rafe was a role model for conformity, but—what the hell… life was good, the sex was fantastic. “I’m not easily scared,” she said with a nervy grin.
“I’ve noticed. That’s part of the fun. You think you can handle me.”
Their eyes locked for a moment.
“I always win, tiger.”
She smiled. “Funny thing. Me too. In fact”—she was cut off; her comment, her breath, her ability to think, because Rafe was sliding his fingertips down her stomach and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know where he was heading. Oh yess… his fingers came to rest on her newly washed cleft and she involuntarily moaned as he slipped one finger inside and ever so gently touched her sweet spot.