Page 22 of Tell Me Something True

His heart picked up speed, but he kept his body still, his tone controlled. “Eyes on me.” His cock surged when her gaze immediately snapped to his. “Say that again.”

“I like it,” she repeated, no hesitation this time. “I like letting you take control. I like doing what you say.”

A rushing sound filled his ears. Adrenalin, excitement, and lust shot through him, a potent, dangerous mix that wanted him to surge to his feet, push her to her knees and shove his cock in her mouth. Fuck those full, red lips until he emptied himself down her throat.

But this wasn’t a punishment. He’d been honest when he’d told her he didn’t want to do anything to make her feel less than.

He didn’t want to hurt her.

Sitting up, he drew his legs together. “Come here.”

And she did. Just stepped forward as if attached to a string his words had pulled.

“Spread your legs.”

A hesitation this time, a few moments before she shuffled her feet a few inches apart.

Lifting his gaze to her face, he raised one eyebrow. “Wider.”

She lifted her hands as if unsure what to do with them before letting them fall back to her sides. Shifted from one foot to the other. But this time, she didn’t move her feet.

And she kept her upper thighs pressed firmly together.

But he’d already learned something about her.

She liked to be coaxed.

That wasn’t surprising. The girl he’d known had been eager to please. Always agreeing with him. Never pushing him for more—not more of his time or affection or his thoughts or words.

He’d thought she hadn’t asked for more because he’d given her everything she could possibly want.

But he was starting to think that maybe she’d been agreeable and accepting of whatever he gave her not because he’d been so fucking benevolent, but because she’d been afraid to ask for what she truly wanted.

She was still afraid.

He didn’t like that. Didn’t like the possibility that the confidence she’d shown in the bar was another aspect of the part she was playing.

She deserved it to be real.

“Come on,” he cajoled, an edge of command to his request because he knew she liked that, too. “Spread those pretty thighs for me.”

She trembled, those pretty thighs quaking, her breath coming out in a shaky exhale.

And then she widened her feet, stepping them far enough apart that he could see her pussy lips, puffy and glistening.

He shot her a cocky, half-grin, all he could manage with his dick hard and leaking in his pants and his hold on his control fraying with each surrender she gave him.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “So wet for me.” She swayed toward him, her body undulating as if seeking his touch. Seeking some sort of relief. “And so eager.”

“Miles…” His name on her lips was half whisper, half whimper. “You can touch me.”

Touch her? He wanted to devour her. But he wouldn’t. Not yet. Not until she was weak and shaking and sobbing his name.

Not until she begged.

“Hmm,” he said in response to her offer. “Put your hands behind your back.”

She frowned. “Why?”

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