withheld giving her everything. She wound her arms around him, tried to draw him closer.
He pulled back. “Remember who’s in charge. You do what I tell you.”
His fingers hooked in the top of her gym pants and tugged. She gasped. He stripped her bare from the waist down in one movement. She tried to press her legs shut at the shock of sudden exposure.
He grasped her ankles, his face fierce but not cold. “You shut them if I say shut them. You open them if I say open them.”
The grip on her ankles made her want to test him. Made her want to see just how rough things could get. Yet something else said yes .
Yes , she’d do what he said, open everything to him.
He released her and sat back.
She bit back the protest that rose to her lips . “No come back— tear my legs open.”
“Get on the couch.”
She rolled to her side then stepped on boneless legs to the sofa.
“Sit on the end.”
Charlie turned and sat, the cool leather startling her bare bottom. She rested her hand on the arm instead of using it to cover herself. She didn’t tug her top down and hide the strip of dark hair that disappeared between her legs.
Connor followed her, leaned over her, tempted her with his closeness but only reached around her, grabbed the handle below the armrest and reclined the end of the sofa. She didn’t move, just let herself sink backwards until she lay almost straight.
He stood, his hands moved to the hem of his shirt. Her gaze honed in on the patch of skin revealed at his waist. He swooped up the shirt and pulled it over his head.
She clamped her thighs together and gripped the armrest. Dammit, he’d just ruined her for life. No shirtless man could ever compete with this. He looked as hard and masculine as he’d felt. His pecs were defined under a spattering of neat, dark hair that thinned and trailed beckoningly down his chest, over the ridges of his stomach then disappeared into the top of his sweatpants.
God, it was all she could do not to rocket forward and attack his pants, reveal the trail’s destination. His hip flexors tightened when he moved, made her want to press her tongue to the hollow they created. Her thighs slickened.
“Open, baby.”
She blinked. An instruction, he wanted her legs open. If she’d been more in control, she may have resisted but she wanted to prove she could do what he asked. She shifted, parting her thighs slightly but not enough to let him see what he’d done to her.
Connor grabbed her ankle and tugged her leg wider, exposing her dewy center. She gasped and watched him kneel on the edge of the sofa in the space he’d made between her thighs—watched his gaze trace her exposed sex. Her pussy responded to his attention, getting wetter under his gaze.
“When I tell you to do something there will be no half doing it. Understand?”
She closed her eyes and nodded.
“Eyes on me, baby. Eyes always on me.”
She opened them. He adjusted her thighs wider, bending her knees and resting her ankles on his hips. She reached to grab the hem of her shirt.
“Don’t,” he growled. “One look at those tits and this will be over hard and fast. I want to have fun first.”
Fun . Heat dripped over her skin. Fun for whom? For him or her? Because hard and fast sounded pretty freaking good right about now.
She dropped her shirt and planted her hand back on the armrest.
He touched her but not like she expected. With her knees high and open he spread her lips with his thumbs.
“What a pretty pussy you have. You have no idea what I’m going to do to it do you?”
She balled her fists as a tremor rolled through her. He opened her wider, eating her out with his gaze. Air caressed her pussy. It quivered, silently begging him to show her exactly what he planned to do. He moved, spreading her with one hand and sinking a finger deep into her with the other.
Tension shot through her, and that tight, achy desire for more intensified. He stroked her gently then pushed in another,
He pulled back. “Remember who’s in charge. You do what I tell you.”
His fingers hooked in the top of her gym pants and tugged. She gasped. He stripped her bare from the waist down in one movement. She tried to press her legs shut at the shock of sudden exposure.
He grasped her ankles, his face fierce but not cold. “You shut them if I say shut them. You open them if I say open them.”
The grip on her ankles made her want to test him. Made her want to see just how rough things could get. Yet something else said yes .
Yes , she’d do what he said, open everything to him.
He released her and sat back.
She bit back the protest that rose to her lips . “No come back— tear my legs open.”
“Get on the couch.”
She rolled to her side then stepped on boneless legs to the sofa.
“Sit on the end.”
Charlie turned and sat, the cool leather startling her bare bottom. She rested her hand on the arm instead of using it to cover herself. She didn’t tug her top down and hide the strip of dark hair that disappeared between her legs.
Connor followed her, leaned over her, tempted her with his closeness but only reached around her, grabbed the handle below the armrest and reclined the end of the sofa. She didn’t move, just let herself sink backwards until she lay almost straight.
He stood, his hands moved to the hem of his shirt. Her gaze honed in on the patch of skin revealed at his waist. He swooped up the shirt and pulled it over his head.
She clamped her thighs together and gripped the armrest. Dammit, he’d just ruined her for life. No shirtless man could ever compete with this. He looked as hard and masculine as he’d felt. His pecs were defined under a spattering of neat, dark hair that thinned and trailed beckoningly down his chest, over the ridges of his stomach then disappeared into the top of his sweatpants.
God, it was all she could do not to rocket forward and attack his pants, reveal the trail’s destination. His hip flexors tightened when he moved, made her want to press her tongue to the hollow they created. Her thighs slickened.
“Open, baby.”
She blinked. An instruction, he wanted her legs open. If she’d been more in control, she may have resisted but she wanted to prove she could do what he asked. She shifted, parting her thighs slightly but not enough to let him see what he’d done to her.
Connor grabbed her ankle and tugged her leg wider, exposing her dewy center. She gasped and watched him kneel on the edge of the sofa in the space he’d made between her thighs—watched his gaze trace her exposed sex. Her pussy responded to his attention, getting wetter under his gaze.
“When I tell you to do something there will be no half doing it. Understand?”
She closed her eyes and nodded.
“Eyes on me, baby. Eyes always on me.”
She opened them. He adjusted her thighs wider, bending her knees and resting her ankles on his hips. She reached to grab the hem of her shirt.
“Don’t,” he growled. “One look at those tits and this will be over hard and fast. I want to have fun first.”
Fun . Heat dripped over her skin. Fun for whom? For him or her? Because hard and fast sounded pretty freaking good right about now.
She dropped her shirt and planted her hand back on the armrest.
He touched her but not like she expected. With her knees high and open he spread her lips with his thumbs.
“What a pretty pussy you have. You have no idea what I’m going to do to it do you?”
She balled her fists as a tremor rolled through her. He opened her wider, eating her out with his gaze. Air caressed her pussy. It quivered, silently begging him to show her exactly what he planned to do. He moved, spreading her with one hand and sinking a finger deep into her with the other.
Tension shot through her, and that tight, achy desire for more intensified. He stroked her gently then pushed in another,
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