Page 82 of Whistle

Oh, I was strung tight. Pulled taut between shock and desire. In my jeans, my dick pulsated and leaked, straining against lace that only moments ago I’d been self-conscious of.

“Drop your pants.”

My palms hit the wall at my back as my hands searched for purchase. His voice. His fiery stare. My knees could not withstand it.

“Show me what I want. What I’ve been lusting after for months.”

I started to speak, but all that came out was a whine. I wet my lips, trembling fingers reaching for the waistband of my jeans.

Suddenly, he was there, plowing into me, grabbing my wrists and pinning them over my head against the wall. His bigger frame overtook mine, making me feel small and owned.

“Of course it’s you,” he murmured, burying his nose in my hair. “Who else could it be but my Goldilocks? Even when you were only a picture, you were all that I wanted.”

His breath ruffled my hair, teeth latching on to my earlobe. Groaning, I tilted my head, offering up anything at all.

Reaching up, he grabbed a handful of my hair, holding my head so he could meet my eyes. “Take your pants off for me, sweetheart. Let me see how sexy you are.”

He let go and stepped back as my shaking hands undid my jeans. They were so loose they dropped almost instantly, and in a flash of insecurity, I grabbed them.

His legitimate growl reverberated throughout his mostly empty house, and the possessive, threatening tone had me letting go.

Fabric pooled around my feet as I stood there on full display. The thong I wore was deep purple, a shade that matched my crop top. The straps were slightly thicker than the pink thong in the photo and cut high on my hips.

The air in the room was cold compared to my heated skin, and goose bumps raced down my legs. I wanted to look down, to make sure my stiff dick was still encased in the purple lace cup at the front, but I couldn’t tear my eyes off Emmett.

He was staring. No. Not staring. Devouring me with a single-minded focus that was equal parts intoxicating and overwhelming.

I moved to cover myself, but he made a sound, stopping me in my tracks. My hands fell back to my sides, and I stood there, not naked but stripped bare as his eyes ate up the crop top, thong, and diamond in my navel.

Still not tearing his eyes away, he held up his hand to motion for me to spin. Swallowing thickly, I rotated, letting him see my ass and the way the purple strap disappeared between my cheeks.

He made a sound, and I glanced over my shoulder.

“I want to put my mouth on you. My hands on you. My dick in you. I’ve never been so hungry for anyone or anything in my entire life.”

I bowed my head, my forehead meeting drywall as I let his hunger consume me. Forgotten were my insecurities. I couldn’t be self-conscious about my small size or love of lingerie because he was hungry. And dear God, I was hungry too.

“Turn around, Goldilocks.”

I turned.

“Show me that diamond.”

I touched the gem in my navel, rolling it between two fingers.

“Tell me I can have you,” he rasped, stare finally releasing my body to meet my eyes. “Tell me I can do anything I want to you. Tell me your body is now mine.”

I started to melt down the wall. He was everything I ever wanted. Everything I searched for but thought didn’t exist.

“Bodhi.”

I froze.

“Tell me.”

“Anything,” I whispered. “Take anything.” Take it all.

His nostrils flared, and his arousal only enhanced mine. “You sure?”