Page 178 of Tell Me Something True

Made it so much easier for her to want what she wanted, to like the things she liked, without worrying he’d take it too far.

Now it was time to work on trusting herself.

“I’m not ashamed,” she repeated softly. Honestly. “And I’m not afraid.”

Finger stilling, he sent her a sardonic, raised eyebrow look, the right side of his mouth lifting in a snarky not buying that bullshit way.

“Well, maybe I’m still afraid,” she amended, amazed that she could feel so many things at once. That she could be both nervous and peaceful. Aroused and amused. “Just a little bit.”

He nodded, kept his eyes on hers. Kept his finger stilled. “Me, too.”

It helped, knowing he was going through the same emotions.

That she wasn’t in any part of this alone.

“I like giving myself over to you,” she told him quietly, and was rewarded for her honesty by that finger resuming its light, leisurely strokes. “I like pleasing you.”

Her confession earned another all-too-pleased-with-himself grin.

She took a deep breath. “And the reason I want to undress quickly is because I’ve spent every night of the past two weeks thinking about the way you fucked my mouth in that closet and how you made me come on your hand in my kitchen, and what it felt like to have your cock inside me when I was bent over your couch all those weeks ago, and I’m a greedy, horny girl,” she continued, breathlessly, repeating the words he’d used to describe her, “who wants all of those things to happen again as soon as possible.”

He seemed to expand, inch by inch, with each word she spoke, with each truth she gave him. His shoulders widened. His chest puffed out. The bulge behind his zipper grew. His body was rigid, his face set in harsh lines, his hand on her hip pressing down harder, pinning her to the mattress.

She gave an experimental wiggle, just to see what he’d do, and he increased the pressure, stilling her again with an ease that thrilled her.

But he was all control as he went back to lightly stroking her center. “You’re not a greedy, horny girl. You’re my greedy, horny girl.”

Her heart skipped, then seemed to leap in her throat as if throwing itself at his feet.

Breathless, joyful, and incredibly and increasingly aroused by his warm palm holding her down, all she could do was nod.

Yes. Yes, of course she was his girl.

She’d always been his girl.

Wanted always to be his.

“Say it again,” he told her, a quiet command that had her breath locking in her chest. “Say it right.”

She licked her lips. Had to swallow—twice—before being able to work enough moisture back into her mouth to speak. “I’m your greedy, horny girl.”

He grunted in satisfaction, then nodded. The gesture an acknowledgement of her words. His acceptance of them.

And the only praise, it seemed, she was going to get for giving them to him.

King Miles had returned.

Then, the bastard straightened, removing his hand from between her legs and sliding his other hand out from beneath her shorts.

“Everything you’re about to do,” he told her, “is for me. You’re going to undress for me. You’re going to come for me. And when you do, you’re going to scream for me. And we’re going to repeat those last two as many times as I want until you beg me to stop.”

His words were a silky promise that wrapped around her throat. Slid into her belly then settled there, heating her. Pulsating inside her. “Do you understand?”

The ability to form words had left her right around the time he’d said that first for me. She was no longer a fully functioning human with the ability to reason or speak or blink. She was all sensation—heat and lust and the thudding of her heart. The heaviness of her breasts and prickling points of her nipples. The ache of her pussy and the dampness between her legs.

Staring at him wide eyed and open mouthed, all she could manage was a squeak.

Luckily, for once, that was enough for him.

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