You got to fuck me, and now, it’s my turn.”
“I swear-” I place my palms flat on the table and take a deep breath, “if you make me do this, I’ll never speak to you again.”
“Oh…” He flashes me a grin. “I don’t know about that.”
“I won’t!”
“I think that I’ll take my chances.”
Shit. He’s not going to let this go. “Can we,” I say, trying to relax my tense body. “Can we at least talk about it?”
He steps forward and sets his palms alongside mine on the table. “No.”
“Seriously, Slate, you weren’t thinking clearly that first day.”
“You may be right,” he leans forward, getting dangerously closer, “but I’m thinking clearly now.” His gaze slides down to my heaving breasts. “And you can fight me all you want on this, but as I explained, misbehaving girls get their asses spanked,” he says with a trace of laughter in his voice as his gaze travels back up to my face. “And you, my naughty little girl, are well overdue. I probably should’ve put you over my knee years ago. So, prepare yourself, I got some makin’ up to do.”
I stare at him, detecting the determination in his tone, the resolve in his posture, and the fierce desire to take exactly what he wants; that shit is shining brightly in his eyes. There’s no question about it. Slate Declan is a changed man. The old Slate would have walked away by now. He’d never dig his feet in and fight me this hard. I’m shrinking inside because of it. I don’t have a chance against him. I wouldn’t have had any back then, either. He’s always had the power, the ability, to bring me to my knees. He just never used it.
Sliding my sweaty palms on the table, I grab my mug. I lift it and take a sip of the coffee, weighing my options and quickly realizing that I don’t have any. I agreed to this, and I’m not one to back down from a deal.
Slate shifts back against the counter, smiling with complete satisfaction. Dammit. He knows he’s going to get what he wants.
I take my time finishing my coffee with him quietly observing. The soundless surveillance builds anticipation as I sit back imagining how all of this is going to go down. Sex was always good with him, but considering how young we were and only having been with each other, it got monotonous. I can’t help but wonder what he’d be like now. And, apparently, I’m not leaving this den until I find out.
After a half an hour of staring at his self-satisfied face, I get up and walk over to the sink to dispose of my empty mug. I turn. He’s looking straight ahead, but I detect his cocky assurance in the contours of his side profile. Oh-ho, he has me, and he knows it. If I ever thought that I would have sex with him again, it definitely wasn’t under these circumstances. It pisses me off that he’s doing this to me.
“Considering how long you usually last, I got, what,” I bump his shoulder with mine, “like another hour or so, huh?”
His chest jumps as he tosses his head back with a short chuckle. Shaking his head, he looks down at the floor. “Hell. I was like a schoolboy back then. I always blew my load real quick, didn’t I,” he says, obviously not the least bit provoked by my comment.
“Within minutes, sometimes even seconds.” I smirk, and he might not be able to see it, but I know that he hears it.
“Huh.” He lifts his head, scrubbing his chin. “But I do recall that I always took care of you first, didn’t I?” He turns to me with a smile.
“Yes,” I grate between clenched teeth. I can’t lie. He spoiled me. Sometimes, he’d take care of me two or three times before worrying about himself.
He laughs and sets his palms on the edge of the counter, gripping it as his head dips slightly closer. “Well, I guess you can take your chances to see if I’ve changed there too, but I’m not sure that you want to wait too long.”
“No?” I slant my eyes.
“No.” He moves forward, lips perpendicular with mine. “’Cause
“I swear-” I place my palms flat on the table and take a deep breath, “if you make me do this, I’ll never speak to you again.”
“Oh…” He flashes me a grin. “I don’t know about that.”
“I won’t!”
“I think that I’ll take my chances.”
Shit. He’s not going to let this go. “Can we,” I say, trying to relax my tense body. “Can we at least talk about it?”
He steps forward and sets his palms alongside mine on the table. “No.”
“Seriously, Slate, you weren’t thinking clearly that first day.”
“You may be right,” he leans forward, getting dangerously closer, “but I’m thinking clearly now.” His gaze slides down to my heaving breasts. “And you can fight me all you want on this, but as I explained, misbehaving girls get their asses spanked,” he says with a trace of laughter in his voice as his gaze travels back up to my face. “And you, my naughty little girl, are well overdue. I probably should’ve put you over my knee years ago. So, prepare yourself, I got some makin’ up to do.”
I stare at him, detecting the determination in his tone, the resolve in his posture, and the fierce desire to take exactly what he wants; that shit is shining brightly in his eyes. There’s no question about it. Slate Declan is a changed man. The old Slate would have walked away by now. He’d never dig his feet in and fight me this hard. I’m shrinking inside because of it. I don’t have a chance against him. I wouldn’t have had any back then, either. He’s always had the power, the ability, to bring me to my knees. He just never used it.
Sliding my sweaty palms on the table, I grab my mug. I lift it and take a sip of the coffee, weighing my options and quickly realizing that I don’t have any. I agreed to this, and I’m not one to back down from a deal.
Slate shifts back against the counter, smiling with complete satisfaction. Dammit. He knows he’s going to get what he wants.
I take my time finishing my coffee with him quietly observing. The soundless surveillance builds anticipation as I sit back imagining how all of this is going to go down. Sex was always good with him, but considering how young we were and only having been with each other, it got monotonous. I can’t help but wonder what he’d be like now. And, apparently, I’m not leaving this den until I find out.
After a half an hour of staring at his self-satisfied face, I get up and walk over to the sink to dispose of my empty mug. I turn. He’s looking straight ahead, but I detect his cocky assurance in the contours of his side profile. Oh-ho, he has me, and he knows it. If I ever thought that I would have sex with him again, it definitely wasn’t under these circumstances. It pisses me off that he’s doing this to me.
“Considering how long you usually last, I got, what,” I bump his shoulder with mine, “like another hour or so, huh?”
His chest jumps as he tosses his head back with a short chuckle. Shaking his head, he looks down at the floor. “Hell. I was like a schoolboy back then. I always blew my load real quick, didn’t I,” he says, obviously not the least bit provoked by my comment.
“Within minutes, sometimes even seconds.” I smirk, and he might not be able to see it, but I know that he hears it.
“Huh.” He lifts his head, scrubbing his chin. “But I do recall that I always took care of you first, didn’t I?” He turns to me with a smile.
“Yes,” I grate between clenched teeth. I can’t lie. He spoiled me. Sometimes, he’d take care of me two or three times before worrying about himself.
He laughs and sets his palms on the edge of the counter, gripping it as his head dips slightly closer. “Well, I guess you can take your chances to see if I’ve changed there too, but I’m not sure that you want to wait too long.”
“No?” I slant my eyes.
“No.” He moves forward, lips perpendicular with mine. “’Cause
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