Page 79 of Reckless King

Tension visibly drains from his body. His shoulders lower, and his rigid abs relax a fraction. He licks his lips, hungry gaze roving over my body. “Yes or no, Violet?”

He’s asking for far more than a kiss this time. But I can’t say the word. I shake my head instead.

He doesn’t seem surprised. His eyes stay focused on mine as he unzips his pants and slides his hand inside. “I told you. You have control. I’m not going to touch you without you asking me to.”

His forearm flexes with the languid movement of his hand, and desire is a hard knot deep inside me. All it would take is oneword, and he’d be on me, his almost feline laziness replaced in an instant by the wild creature lurking beneath the surface.

My body is alive and thrumming with need. Arousal beats through my veins, and my nipples are pushing through the thin material of my shirt.

Tate catalogs my body’s reaction, his jaw going impossibly sharp. “Show me, then,” he grits out. “Show me what I can’t have.”

I shake my head as confusion washes over me.

His voice comes out dark and dirty. “Slide those shorts and panties down your legs, sit in that chair,” he nods to the one opposite him, “and show me what I’m missing out on.”

A strange, wild heat surges through me. The need to drive him as crazy as he’s driving me. Without looking away from him, I hook my thumbs in the sides of my shorts and slowly lower them, along with my underwear. The blaze of desire in Tate’s eyes triggers a fierce tension low and deep inside me. It gives me the determination I need to shove my remaining inhibitions into a vault in my mind and slam the door shut. I can have this. I’m allowed to have it. It might not be all that Tate wants, but he’s ceding control to me, and when it comes to a man like him, that is… freeing.

I move toward the chair, feeling his gaze tracing over me almost like fingers ghosting over my skin. Then I turn and sit. He’s pulled his erection out, and he’s gripping it hard. Even with how big his hand is, there are still several inches of shaft left exposed between his swollen tip and where he’s got his fist wrapped around himself. I squirm, imagining the way it would stretch my body as he pushed it inside me.

“Sit farther back and put your feet up,” he commands. “I want to see every inch of you.”

With a shuddering breath, I do as he says, propping my heels on the edge of the leather seat.

He drops his head back and groans, but quickly jerks it forward again, as if he doesn’t want to miss a single second. The reaction gives me a heady sense of feminine power, which drowns out my remaining self-consciousness.

“Fuck, Violet.” He gives himself one long, hard stroke. Precum glistens at his tip, making my mouth water with the need to taste him. But that’s not what’s happening here. This is Tate controlling me, directing me. He might not be touching me himself, but he’s still responsible for my pleasure.

“Hold your pussy open with your left hand,” he says. “Let me see that pretty diamond on your finger when you come for me.”

I follow his instruction, the stone glimmering as I do.

“Do you know what that ring means, butterfly?”

My heart trips over itself at the need emanating from him when he calls me butterfly. “What?” I whisper.

“Until it comes off your finger, it means that perfect little pussy is mine. Your body is mine. Do you understand?”

I’m too far gone to protest. Maybe when I come back to my senses, I’ll have the wherewithal to deny what he’s saying. But for now, his words only send my desire spiraling higher.

“Touch your clit,” he says, his voice like gravel.

I find the swollen bud and gently circle it, once, twice, my hips arching against the pad of my fingertip. I’m already close, so close.

“That’s enough.”

Without thinking, I obey, pulling my hand away. The smile he gives me is pure wolfish satisfaction. I whimper as the impending orgasm begins to recede.

“I want to see how many fingers my fiancée can fit in her pretty pink cunt.”

God, his filthy words send a rush of arousal between my legs.

Slowly, deliberately, I slip my hand down, bypassing my clit and gliding my forefinger and middle finger on either side of my entrance, extending our mutual torture a little longer.

“You like teasing me, don’t you?”

“Yes.” My voice is breathless.

“Slide those fingers inside and fuck yourself the way I did that night.”

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