Page 16 of Drown in You

Jesus. I really hope it will be the biggest dick I’ve ever seen. I’m already so turned on and he’s barely even touched me. I’m not sure if this buildup is amazing or agonizing.

Both. Definitely both.

Once I get his jacket off, I don’t wait for further instructions. I loosen the tie around his neck and slip it over his head. I’d suggest that he could tie me up with it, but maybe that’s not the smartest move with a complete stranger. I still don’t know how much I can trust him yet.

He watches with hooded eyes as my fingers free every button down the front of his shirt.

When I peel the lapels apart, I nearly gasp. This man is a work of art, hard chest and abs chiseled from marble. My palms land on his bare flesh of their own accord, grazing over the velvety soft skin.

Disturbingly, I realize I probably look like a kid discovering candy for the first time and draw back.

“Did I say you could take your hands off me?”

Fuck, that voice. I’ll beg him on my knees to narrate my favorite books if that’s what it takes. I grin. “I thought you might want my hands elsewhere.”

I drag my palm up his shaft, and holy fuck. There’s no way all of that is fitting inside me. The tip alone is wide and intimidating.

A soft, low groan of pleasure rumbles from deep in his throat. My stomach somersaults. I will do anything to get him to make that sound again.

“Take those off,” he hisses, nodding at my tights like me still being fully clothed in front of him is agonizing. I know the feeling.

Maybe in the darkness, he won’t notice the bruises from where Marcus and his friends kicked me in the legs. As long as I leave my dress on, he won’t see the worst of it.

He tracks every centimeter as I slide my tights down. I’m already so wet and ready for him.

“Now the dress.”

I reach for the fly on his pants instead. “I’d like to keep it on, actually.” I’m sure he won’t care once his dick is in my mouth.

He steps out of my grasp. “I didn’t follow you up here because I didn’t want to see you naked. Now be a good girl and strip for me.”

Well, shit. It’s hard to argue with a man who says horny shit like that. Not to mention it’s almost impossible for me to deny anyone their request. If it’s what they want, if it’s what will make them happy, if they’ll like me more because of it, I’ll do it.

“It’s not a pretty sight,” I warn him. If he’s too turned off to have sex with me because of my bruises, I’ll revolt.

He glowers at me, but there’s a playful edge. I’m not sure if he’s normally like this in the bedroom or if he’s just indulging me. Either way, I’ll take it. “If you don’t take that dress off now, I will.”

Screw it, if he wants the dress off, I’ll take it off. If the bruise on my face didn’t send him running, I’m sure a few more won’t.

I strip off the dress, down to my strapless bra and panties in front of him. Yet I feel completely nude under his burning gaze.

A muscle in his jaw feathers as his gaze lands on the constellation of bruises. I was right—he is incredibly sexy when he’s angry.

His voice is low and dangerous. “Who did this to you?”

My heart stops. He’s just met me, and he already looks like he would burn the world down for me.

“I told you. I f?—”

“Don’t say you fell.” His warning is sharp.

Realistically, I know a total stranger can’t possibly care about me, but he almost convinces me he does. “What does it matter what happened? You can’t do anything about it.”

The wrong thing to say. His eyes cloud, and I’m about to fuck up this whole one-night stand before I even get him inside me.

“I’m fine now,” I reassure him. “I’m safe.”

Except I don’t think I’ll ever be safe, no matter how far I run.

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