Page 7 of Unforgettable

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I call the shots, remember?”

I look down at his straining cock. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice thick and gravelly. He rises up off the bed and takes hold of the bottom of my shirt, raising it over my head. “This is all about you, sweetheart.”

I’m standing here naked, in front of a fully clothed man, and instead of feeling self-conscious, all I keep thinking is that I can’t remember the last time I was a priority like this. The last time somebody else’s pleasure was purely based on mine.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I press my naked self against him. His hands naturally fall to my waist as he brings me to him.

“And what if I want to suck your cock,” I say boldly.

He smirks. “I’d tell you to wait patiently.”

I raise a brow at him. “Really?”

“The plans I have for you include slow, delicious torture,” he informs me. “I want to wring orgasm after orgasm out of you.”

His words make me tremble, and before I can stop and justify the question, I’m asking him, “Do you do this with all your one-night stands? Fuck them really good so they don’t forget you?”

The sarcastic retort I was expecting doesn’t come. In fact, the extended pause has me rearing my head back to get a better look at him. He’s chewing on his lip, a look of uncertainty on his face. An expression that appears to be almost out of place.

“What?” I ask.

“No.” He shakes his head at me, confusing me.

“No, what?”

“No. I don’t do this with all my one-night stands.”

The answer settles over us like a blanket, cocooning us and blocking out the rest of the world.

I press my lips to his and just roll with it, not wanting to assess or examine why I feel this unexplainable pull to a stranger, or why that simple statement feels like it’s shifted everything between us.

He holds me tighter, and we indulge in the kiss. It isn’t lost on me that I’mstillthe only one naked, or that his cock feels like a steel rod against my stomach.

My hands roam down his arms, down his back, and then I’m fisting the hem of his shirt and raising it over his head. I expect a reprimand, or a quip about him calling the shots, but when it doesn’t come, I unbuckle his belt, undo the button, and pull down the zipper.

“Sure you don’t want that blowjob?” I tease.

“Get on the bed,” he demands. “Facedown, lie on your stomach. I want to get a good look at that gorgeous ass of yours.”

I feel my skin heat up and my cheeks flush at his request. It’s not like I didn’t prepare for tonight, but his forwardness will continue to render me both speechless and wanting.

My reaction doesn’t go unnoticed. “I wasn’t lying when I said I find you adorable and sexy.” Oz places a palm on the side of my face. “I like you like this.” His gaze darts from my eyes, to my cheeks, and down to my now semi-hard cock and back up again. “A little embarrassed but still so eager.”

He tilts his head to the bed, and I wordlessly climb up and bury my head into a pile of pillows, grateful that Oz can no longer see my burning face.

When I feel the bed dip, I can’t help but look over my shoulder. When my eyes land on his naked form, my body thrums excitedly.

“See something you like?” he asks.

“You have to know,” I stammer. “You have to know your body is like… it’s like perfection, Oz.”

He isn’t shy, but I can tell the compliment throws him off just a little. Unable to help myself, I turn around, rise to my knees, and reach for him.

He watches as I skate my fingers down his torso. I trace the grooves of his abdomen. One. Two. Three. And I keep going. Amazed. “This is like a real-life six-pack.”

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