The Stranger Just One Night Part 1(31)

“Do you see who I am?” I ask. “Or do you just see what you want?”

I see a flash of understanding as he brings his gaze back up to meet mine. “I see a woman who can be incredibly authoritative and a woman who is exposed. I see that you are as forceful as you are tender, absolutely brilliant, and just a little bit naïve.”

“What else?”

“I see . . . I see that you have the courage to face your fears. You’re a little bit scared right now, aren’t you?”

I answer with only the slightest nod.

“What are you scared of, Kasie?”

I tremble even as I smile. “You tell me.”

“All right.” He takes a step forward and caresses my body with his stare one more time. “You’re scared of the part of yourself you have begun to unleash.”

“Partly.”

“You’re scared of how much you want me. Maybe you’re scared because right now I can do almost anything I want to you without your issuing a single protest because you know that the things I want to do are the things you want to happen.”

I swallow, hard. But I won’t look away from him. He takes another step and runs his hand up my inner thigh until he presses against my panties, only the thinnest fabric between his fingers and my clit. I know this dance now but I still gasp as his fingers begin to move.

“I see who you are, Kasie,” he says. “And it’s the only thing I want to see.”

My legs are shaking and I reach forward and grab his shirt, holding on to him out of both necessity and passion.

“Take me to your bedroom,” I whisper as the shivers take over every part of my body. “I want to make love to you on your flame-colored bed.”

His hand moves away and in a moment I’m up in his arms, being carried like a princess down a discreetly placed flight of stairs. The room he leads me to is massive, easily as big as the living room above us. I see his desk with his computer. I see the expensive chair.

In the center of it all is the bed, which I feel as he lowers me onto it. I feel it against my skin as he removes my panties. But when he takes off his shirt, his jeans, and all the rest . . . well then I can only feel him . . . the pressure of his muscles as they press down on top of me. His lips as they devour my neck. I pull off the sheer top. Every inch of my skin must touch his. The flames are not coming from the bed but from inside me. My hand goes to his erection and I feel my own potency as it twitches in my hand. Every ridge is familiar to me now. I know how to touch it to make him go crazy and I toy with him, enjoying the staccato nature of each breath he takes. But I don’t object when he pulls away, lowering his mouth to my very core. I shake as his tongue plunges deep inside of me, tickling me, making me wetter than I have ever been before. I can’t keep quiet. I moan and cry out as I grab on to the comforter beneath my arching my back, almost pulling away, almost afraid of the intensity of what he’s making me feel. But he holds my hips still, refusing to let me go, using his thumb to pull my skin taught around my clit so he can lick and taste every hidden corner, forcing me to experience what I’m afraid of and what I long for.

The orgasm is so strong, I think it’s going to split me apart. I have no control. I don’t even have the ability to want the control I’ve lost. I don’t recognize the guttural sounds that are coming out of my mouth. I have no power to resist when he comes back up, hovering over me, taking a long, hard look at my trembling naked body before kissing me, his taste mingling with my own. I feel his erection pressing up against me but he won’t enter. He’s teasing me and my desire is driving me absolutely wild. I struggle to push myself down, struggle to force him inside but he grabs me by the arms and holds me in place. I have to wait, and the wanting, the lust, the impatience . . . it’s bringing the intensity to heights I hadn’t even known it could reach.

“Please,” I say, arching my back, trying to touch my breasts to his chest. “Please.”

“You are the only woman I know who is as sexy when she unapologetically takes what she wants as she is when she pleads for release.”

I can’t engage in conversation right now. Can’t remark on the peculiar compliment. All I can do is listen to my body. The flames are consuming me.

“Please,” I say again. “I need you.”

And now he’s the one who groans and in an instant he pushes into me. I cry out, unable to do anything but experience what he’s giving me. Every thrust brings on new sensations. He releases my arms, and my hands run up and down his back, around his neck, through his hair then down to his ass. I have all of him but I want more.