Page 47 of Hidden Heart

He looked up at her from where he nibbled her breast. “Since you asked so sweetly.” He bit her nipple then moved between her legs.

She bent her knees and held herself spread for him, ready for his entrance.

“Such a good girl,” he ground out at the sight of her. He reached down between her legs and slid two fingers inside. Not even a breath later, she began fucking his fingers. All week she had tormented herself with the memories of his touch, and now she had it. She wouldn’t waste a moment.

His thumb circled her clit, driving her even closer to the brink. Her mind no longer able to form words, she resorted to moans as he continued the delicious torture. This man, this strong, dominant man, loved to bring her to the edge. He drove her wild with his fingers.

Then his touch was gone, and the head of his cock pressed against her entrance. She swallowed hard, wanting to move, to push up at him and take his dick inside her, but she waited. Waited for him to allow it.

“I love you,” he growled as he drove into her with one thrust. She cried out from the sensation. He filled her completely. “Say it.”

“You love me,” she said in a breathless moan. “And I love you.” She clung to him with need and anticipation. He cradled her in his arms as he plunged into her wet depths.

“Play with your clit,” he commanded.

She bit the corner of her lower lip then slipped her hand between them.

“I love your obedience. Your trust. Your beauty. Everything about you,” he said with a passion filled tone.

“Oh, God!” she cried out, his words stroking her as much as his body. He brought her to the edge of ecstasy.

He locked his gaze with hers. He was close, too. He palmed her breast, pinching her nipple gently then with more force. It hurt so good, she trembled with need, an urgent need to dive over the edge.

“May I please come? Please,” she begged, no longer afraid that he knew her need.

“Yes, come now. Now.” He pumped harder into her, and they both cried out as they fell into oblivion together.

Chapter 19

Royce sat in an armchair in his apartment, reading a book. Jessica’s passion for reading had rekindled his own. The morning after what she titled “The Misunderstanding,” he’d thumbed through her collection. The woman who didn’t believe in love had a library of over three hundred romance novels. She would never stop surprising him.

There was a rustling behind him, but he continued to read. At a throat being cleared, he turned in his seat.

Jessica stood in the doorway to the bedroom. The ribbon holding her hair in a braid was the only clothing she wore. In her right hand hung his leather belt, folded in half. She walked to him, her hips swaying in the manner he enjoyed.

Reaching his chair, she slid to her knees, taking the humbling position she had once declared she never would.

Yes, she would never stop surprising him.

She lifted the belt in the palms of her hands—an offering of such.

His gaze remained steady on her. She took a deep breath as his chest filled with pride and love.

“Sir, I am ready to accept my punishment, if you are willing to give it.”

He blinked. “What did you call me?” he asked softly, unsure he wanted her to clarify. She could realize she misspoke and change her mind.

“I called you Sir,” she said, bringing her gaze to his. “When Melody called you that…” she let out a breath. The habit of hiding her feelings would be hard to break, but she tried. And he wouldn’t hurry her for more. “When she said it, I hated it.”

He scooted up in his chair, touching her chin with his fingertips. “Why?”

Her jaw set for a short moment. “Because you weren’t hers. You’re mine.”

“That’s true.” He nodded. “But why use the word Sir? You didn’t like it before, when we first met.” He wouldn’t push, but a little nudge wouldn’t hurt.

“Because when we first met, I didn’t understand how much of an endearment it was. I understand now, how the woman I saw could call her boyfriend that and look so happy—so content.”

“You’re happy with me then? Even though I’m about to whip your ass?” He dropped his hand from her chin. He needed a real answer, and not one colored by arousal.

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