Page 54 of Black Velvet

"You asked for me bare and real," she coos in a soft voice. "This is it. This is all I can give you."

A moment of tense silence stretches between us as she awaits my response, while I try to calm the monster inside me.

Fuck it. There's no use. Not tonight.

Chapter 32

Elene

He pulls me closer with desperate need, his lips meeting mine with such force that all doubts about my decision are instantly cast aside. I was worried that he'd take my toned-down appearance as a sign of laziness. The same kind of laziness that people in long-term relationships accuse each other of once they get too comfortable around each other.

But he took the minimal paint on my face just as it was meant—a gesture to show him that I'm willing to show him the woman behind the mask I was forced to wear for so long. I was taught that attraction had to be earned and attention forcefully drawn to you by acting as peacocks do. It worked well for years, but it never granted me with a kiss such as this.

His lips are hot and surprisingly soft as they meet mine. Seconds pass with me being unable to breathe, robbed of air by the vicious way he claims me. His tongue invades my mouth in a rigorous rush, as if I had been the one to make him wait. I welcome him, easily joining his greedy dance while I fight the urge to move my hands up to him. He's keeping me locked in place, holding my face between his hands during our ravenous kiss, while mine remain on my thighs. Obedience has always been my strong suit, but it has never been this hard to contain myself.

I melt into our kiss, somersaults assaulting my core and making it close to impossible to lull my agitated body.

Hope blossoms within my chest as I allow the idea that this could be it, that tonight I would finally get what he's been denying me for reasons only he fully understands.

I try to shut it out, determined to savor this astounding kiss that feels strong enough to crush my soul. If he decided to leave right now, I would lose it. I know I would finally lose my mind and I would do whatever it took to get him back, to make him give me what I need. Because he owes me.

It's a strange realization, but it couldn't be closer to the truth. Despite evoking climax after climax from my sore body, I feel like he's the one taking things from me while I'm the one who doesn't hesitate to give.

He never breaks our kiss but amplifies the force of his assault when he lets go of my face and pushes me back instead, his left hand moving between my legs, while he guides me to the floor with the other.

I want to protest but am silenced as soon as he begins toying with my center. Instead of fighting him off, I lie down on my back, stretching and spreading my legs to let him in.

"Good girl," he praises, his deep voice sounding right next to my face.

The moan that escapes me when he glides between my wet folds is created by a blend of pleasure and agony. He pins me down on the floor with his strong body, pushing my legs even further apart with his knees while his skillful fingers brush along my clit, evoking one explosive sensation after another.

I shake my head in protest, searching for his eyes.

"No," I plead, having to clear my throat. "Please, don't."

"Don't what?" he asks, his gray eyes narrowing with ominous threat.

The tip of his finger collides with an especially sensitive part of my throbbing core and I jerk beneath him.

"Don't make me come," I beg, fixating him with a supplicating look. "Not before I have seen you."

His eyes flicker. "Seen me?"

I bite my lip, gathering the courage to voice my demand.

"Seen you like you have seen me," I clarify.

Understanding scurries over his expression as he nods. He lets go of me, leaving an uncomfortable void as he straightens up, while I'm still sprawled on the floor hesitant to move. He gets up on his feet, already pulling at his tie while I slowly follow on instinct, sitting upright as my gaze is glued to him.

"You may help me," he says, getting rid of his tie first, before he opens the first button of his suit jacket.

I don't need to be told twice and gather myself up, in a hurry to get up on my feet and lend him a hand. A foreboding chuckle graces his handsome face as he watches my somewhat clumsy excitement. The suit jacket glides down over his shoulders, revealing a pristine white shirt underneath. My fingers are shaking when I reach for the buttons, opening one after another and slowly exposing his hairless chest.

My eyes seek his for quick reassurance before my hands glide under the shirt, skimming the tanned skin that stretches across his sharp muscles. I make my way up to his chest to the right and to the left, opening the shirt and finally draping it off of his marvelous body. It sits tight around the muscles of his upper arms, asking me to force the fabric down with a vicious yank that almost causes the material to rip.

I don't want to gape, but I can't help it when I'm faced with his chiseled physique. A well-defined landscape of ripped muscles graces his upper body, all the way from his broad shoulders to his bulky chest, then tapering down to a narrow waist. My eyes linger on his sculptured abs and the V-lines that stand out against his pelvis, pointing down to the massive bulge still hidden behind dark fabric.

He stands tall before me, letting me explore his marvelous physique with both my hands and my eyes. I've never been with a man like him. I don't even think I've ever seen a man built like him in real life. My awe culminates in a move that I would have considered silly and embarrassing if I were told about someone else doing it, but my reservations are put on hold as I'm overtaken with his erotic appeal.

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