Page 109 of In Spades

Will slid his jeans off his hips, his erection springing free.

My eyes widened. “You go commando?”

A lopsided grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Trust me, you’ll appreciate my ability to fuck you whenever, wherever.”

Holy shiitake mushrooms.

He stood before me—naked—in a wide stance with his arms crossed over his chest.

I swallowed, unable to peel my eyes away from his cock. He was… Holy shit. Large was an understatement.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, knees spread, and rested his hands on his thighs.

I wrapped my arms around my waist. I was more clothed than he was, but I felt completely exposed.

“Come here, beautiful. Don’t hide from me,” Will commanded. His voice was gruff, but it had a warmth that comforted me. “Let me look at you.”

Slowly, I lowered my arms and took a step forward.

He pointed to the space between his knees, right in front of his hardened cock. A pearl of wetness seeped from the head.

“Wrap your hand around my cock,” Will said gently, his hazel eyes meeting mine.

I hesitated.

He reached out and took my hand, unfurled my fingers, then wrapped them around his dick. His hand closed around mine. “Good girl. Just like that.”

I let out a little gasp as his cock twitched and throbbed. Will closed his eyes as he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Do you see what you do to me?” he grunted, guiding my hand up and down his shaft in a steady rhythm. “Do you see how much I need you?”

My body lit up like a wildfire, blazing furiously with the voracious need to feel him inside of me. He wasn’t even touching me and already had me on the verge of shattering in bliss.

“Panties off,” he snapped. “Let me see that pretty pussy.”

The sweet, gentle Will was gone. In his place was an aggressor who held my body captive, teetering on a hair trigger.

Hands shaking, I hooked my fingers around the sides of my simple cotton briefs. He hadn’t given me a chance to change into something sexy. I lowered my panties down my thighs, letting them fall past my knees onto the floor.

“That’s right.”

Pinpricks flashing across my skin at the sound of his praise.

He beckoned me closer with a crook of his finger. “Bra off.”

More boldly this time, I reached behind my back and unclasped my bra.

Will grabbed it and tossed it aside. He trailed his finger from the dip in my collarbone, down the valley of my breasts to my navel. He circled my belly piercing, and a devilish smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

I cowered away and shivered.

“You didn’t tell me about this,” he said as he trailed his finger lower, sliding to the left where my tattoo started low on my hip and snaked down to the crease of my thigh.

It was my impulsive, I’m an adult—hear me roar tattoo that I got on my eighteenth birthday.

It was a feather with orchids and vines twisting around it. My eighteen-year-old self thought she was deep shit with her “Hope is the thing with feathers” tattoo inspiration.

Now, hope was the only thing I held on to. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

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