Page 78 of The Rules of Playing with Fire

His face remained unchanged, but I saw his eyes soften for a moment before he returned a nod. “Understood, now strip,” he ordered.

“No,” I retorted. “You want control, you do it.” I repeated my line from Montréal.

This time, he smirked. “Gladly. Anything off limits?” he asked, unbuttoning his heavy brocade jacket.

“No pinning down my arms. Torso is okay,” I said, walking toward the bed. “You?”

“No choking.”

“Got it. Are you going to undress me, or do I have to do that myself?” I tossed out a challenge, and he lapped it up.

I chuckled inside as he stepped closer and began tugging at the dupatta.

“Safety pins,” I said and pointed to several places I had pinned, haphazardly so in places, just to annoy him.

But meticulous as he was, it didn’t seem to bother him. He patted me down and found every pin I had pushed into my ornate blouse, undoing them carefully and tenderly, never once letting either the steel of the pin or its prickly top touch my skin.

I resisted the urge to slide my hand up his naked torso. He stood with his buttons undone but the clothing still on him. The open sherwani flapped against our thighs as he circled me, undoing the pins. I felt the warmth of his body brushing against me, his rich, heady smell sinking into my soul.

“Is kissing allowed?” I asked, peering into his determined eyes with my needy, doe-like ones.

I expected him to grin at my desperation, but he just nodded. The next moment, I grabbed his face between my palms and brought it down to meet my lips. I let my hunger for him show as I sucked his lips and tongue, but I was also angry that he had so easily allowed me to walk away after I took offense at Anju’s words. I bit his bottom lip at the memory, and he groaned in pain.

“Sorry!” I said, immediately realizing my folly.

“Dammit, Sona! You’re so fucking hot.”

He undressed quickly and pulled the cord of my lehenga. It slipped down my legs and gathered in a halo around my ankles. As I stepped out of the pool, he picked it up and laid it on the chair. Then, with haste, he yanked down my panties, kicked them away, and undid the hooks and cord holding my blouse in place. The moment it was off, he pounced on my breasts.

“Not so fast, mister,” I said as I pulled down his briefs, finding him heavy and ready for me.

As I grabbed him and decided on my next move, he gripped my chin with one hand and pinched my nipple with the other until I winced.

“Not this time, Thomas. I won’t give you the pleasure.”

“Try and stop me,” I cried, ravaged with need and annoyance. I stroked him harder and teased the head with my thumb until my finger was wet and sliding all over him like an out-of-control skater.

He lifted me off the floor and dropped me on the bed, coaxing my legs apart. I fought against myself, but my need won. I rocked with him as he employed everything available to him at the moment to disarm me.

“Condom,” I said between breaths. “Now.”

He heeded immediately, and as he entered me, I felt his throbbing. I hugged him tight and rolled with him to get on top as I pulled my legs from beneath him and repositioned myself. I felt him deeper inside me and found his resistance weakening. His grip on my waist loosened as his eyes dropped shut, and I grazed and teased and clutched him tight, digging my nails into his skin.

With a groan, he brought his hand to my upper arms, closing his fingers around them. I raked my nails along his shoulders and down his arms as he let out a series of sighs and hisses.

He pulled himself up to grab my breast in his mouth. True to his word, he wasn’t gentle—I felt his teeth sink into my skin. I yelled, but not in complaint. No, I wanted more. Cradling his head, I pushed his face deeper into my chest. When he moved his mouth to the other breast, I urged him again, and he gave me the bite marks I so desperately craved.

As I stood at the threshold of the promised ruin, an involuntary moan escaped my mouth. “Oh, Mi—” I stopped. I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure.

His fingers dug into my arms. “Say it, Sona. Say my name. Show me how much you’re enjoying this.”

I writhed and wriggled, inching closer to the cliff. I was determined not to utter his name, although its melody was strumming through my veins.

That irked him, and he tried tipping me to exchange positions, only I had gripped his shoulders and was about to explode. He felt me and, in a weak moment, allowed himself to indulge in that feeling.

I let out a wanton scream as my insides tightened around him, and I kept up my rhythm to extend the delightful feeling. When my tender clit had had enough, it fired back at me, and I relented, flopping to the bed in agony.

Fierce as his face was, he allowed me the space, for a moment, at least. “Ready?” he asked with impatience.

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