Page 27 of Mine to Take

By the same token, I’ve never felt so alive.

My heart slams against my ribcage as blood sizzles through my veins and arousal pools in my core.

And I feel…sexy.

Desired.

By a man like Maverick McKinnon, who can have any girl he wants with the crook of his finger.

Even though the room is bathed in shadows, it would be impossible not to see the stark hunger written across every line of his face as he stares down at me, eating me up with his eyes. Pent-up tension vibrates in every straining muscle as it attempts to break loose.

He wraps his hand around his thick cock before sliding it up and down the long shaft. His pupils dilate as he leisurely strokes himself.

“Tell me who that pretty pink pussy belongs to for the night.”

I gulp and blurt, “You.”

His eyes flare with heat as more moisture gathers at my center.

“To use anyway I want?”

I nod.

He tilts his head and smirks. “Use your words, sunshine.”

Arousal detonates at the bottom of my belly.

“Yes, to use any way you want.”

A smile curves his lips as he fondles his hard length. “Mmm. There are so many delicious ways I’m going to have you.”

The thought is as dizzying as it is intriguing.

My gaze stays locked on the way he fists his erection.

“You like to watch?” He continues jacking himself off. “Here’s a little secret I’ll only share with you—I like to watch too. There’s nothing sexier than a woman giving herself pleasure.”

I can’t rip my attention away from him as his grip intensifies, turning the head of his cock a mottled purplish hue.

My core throbs with newfound awareness until it becomes painful.

I don’t realize that I’m cupping my own breasts, squeezing the softness, until a whimper escapes from me.

“Pinch those sweet titties,” he growls.

I don’t think twice about following the directive as I tweak the small buds until they’re unbearably hard.

“Fuck.” He strokes his hand along his length. “You’re so damn sexy.”

That’s the ironic thing—I’ve never felt sexy before this moment.

But Maverick knows nothing about me.

I can be anyone I want.

To him, I’m not Willow Thompson.

Sick girl.

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