Page 130 of Meet Me at the Metro

It’s so feral it almost scares me.

Almost.

“My God,” he pants, still rubbing me—still staring me down with that lethal, dangerous gaze. “It terrifies me how much I can want you, Nora.”

“It doesn’t terrify me,” I admit, low and breathy.

He smiles wickedly. “It should.”

I yelp as he hoists me into his arms and carries us toward the living room. Slowly—gently—he sets me back against the dark leather of the couch. My heart races as he steps back to inspect me, his substantial form towering over me and watching my limbs grow lax against the soft cushions.

Standing like this, Theo is the unparalleled depiction of dominance—possession.

Tonight, I’m more than happy to be submissive to it.

I shiver as Theo’s fingertips trace up the inner seam of my stockings, starting from the tips of my toes and running up to my thighs. His eyes are glazed with hunger and undiluted need as he brushes a knuckle against my aching cunt.

“You fond of these?”

I smile knowingly. “The stockings?”

“Mhmm.“ My breath hitches as he pinches the porous fabric.

“Not particularly…”

He cocks his head to the side as he stretches the material back a few times. “You sure?”

“Positive,” I breathe, chest heaving.

“Good.” He yanks the bundle of stockings back so forcefully that the fabric rips open, and he darkly laughs as he stares at the gaping hole in the mesh—my bare, slick folds. “Fucking hell, Nora. Went bare tonight, huh?”

“Makes for easy access.”

He smirks. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, you know… just in case you intended on bending me over and fucking me in between entrees tonight.”

Theo’s entire face lights up. He licks at his lips as if they’ve suddenly gone dry. “Wish you would have told me that before we started eating,” he retorts, pushing a finger inside of me.

A long, taunting stroke in.

A quick, unexpected pullout.

His finger is glistening as he brings it toward his mouth.

“Theo, don’t,” I mutter, suddenly feeling shy—insecure.

He just stares at me defiantly, closes his lips around his finger, and sucks.

“Mmm. Definitely wish you would have told me before we started eating. You taste significantly better than dinner.”

Theo draws my legs open wider and pushes two fingers inside of me.

“Were you daydreaming about me bending you over and fucking you during dinner, Nora?”

His fingers’ steady, rhythmic movement wraps my entire body in a delightful warmth, and every stroke makes my breathing grow heavier.

He slows his pace for just a moment—changing the rhythm just enough to have my body begging for more. “Answer me, pretty thing.”

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