Page 158 of Hard Knot

Her grin widens, and she spins on her heel, walking toward the dashboard.

Her hips sway with each step, the motion hypnotic and deliberate, and I can’t tear my eyes away. She presses a button I hadn’t even realized she’d noticed before, and the room fills with music —a soft, sultry melody with a hauntingly seductive undertone.

The harmonies wrap around us, filling the soundproof space as she turns to face me again. She doesn’t move immediately, just stands there, her head tilted slightly as if listening to the rhythm, letting it settle into her body.

I lean back in the chair, my breath catching as she begins to move.

Her hips sway in time with the beat, fluid and sensual, her hands trailing down her sides as she steps closer. Her long legs carry her with the grace of a dancer, and I can’t help but admire the vivid tattoos that adorn her thighs and arms. The ink seems to come alive as she moves, accentuating every curve, every shift of her body.

She spins slowly, giving me a full view of her back, and then dips low, her movements so precise and deliberate that I can feel my mouth go dry. I unbuckle my belt with shaky fingers, my hard shaft springing free, desperate for relief.

I run my tongue over my bottom lip, trying to moisten it as I watch her. She’s captivating, every motion calculated to draw me in further, to keep my eyes locked on her and nowhere else.

Her hands find the waistband of her shorts, and she hooks her thumbs inside, sliding them down inch by inch. The lacy black panties beneath cling to her hips, glistening with her arousal, and the sight sends a jolt of heat straight to my core.

Fuck, I can smell her now.

Her slick mixes with her natural scent, creating an aroma so potent it leaves me dizzy.

She steps out of her shorts, kicking them aside before turning back to face me. Her movements are slower now, teasing, as if daring me to lose control.

Her hips roll again, and I can see the wetness seeping through the lace, the way it clings to her like a second skin. She’s perfection — untouchable and yet so close, it’s maddening.

“God,” I whisper, unable to stop the word from slipping out.

Her lips curl into a knowing smile, and she spins again, her hands trailing up her thighs, her stomach, and over her chest as she moves. The music swells, and her body follows the rhythm as if it’s a part of her, every beat reflected in her motions.

I’m so hypnotized, so caught up in her performance, that I can’t even think about rushing her. All I can do is watch, my cock throbbing painfully as I wait, impatient yet completely spellbound.

The music fades into the background, a distant melody that feels more like an echo of her movements. My chest rises and falls unevenly as I try to control my breathing, but she’s making it impossible.

Every step, every sway, every glance from her is calculated to undo me, and I’m hanging by a thread.

She stops in front of me, her lips curling into a teasing smirk.

“Since I’ve appeased you a bit,” she says, her voice low and sultry, “I think it’s time I work you, too. You’ve been so patient with me, Felix. Waiting for the right moment for us to be alone.”

My pulse races at her words, and I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry as she steps closer. She’s deliberate, taking her time, her hands brushing over her hips before hooking into the sides of her lace panties.

With one fluid motion, she slides them down her legs, the wet fabric clinging to her skin until she kicks them free.

She holds them up, dangling them in front of my face like a prize.

“Here,” she murmurs, her voice soft but filled with mischief. “Keep this as a souvenir.”

I groan in relief as she presses them into my hand, the damp material still warm from her body.

Without thinking, I lift them slightly, inhaling her scent deeply.

“Fuck,” I mutter, the word slipping out before I can stop it.

Her laughter is warm and full, a sound that wraps around me as she leans down to tuck the panties into the pocket of my pants. The intimate gesture sends another jolt of heat through me, and I grip the armrests of the chair, trying to keep myself steady.

Then she lowers herself onto her knees, slow and deliberate, her movements so fluid it feels like watching a predator stalking its prey.

Our eyes lock, and I’m lost in her gaze.

Her pupils are blown wide, her desire evident in the way her lashes flutter and her lips part just slightly. The smudged red lipstick only adds to her allure, making her look like she’s stepped out of some forbidden fantasy.

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