My breathing deepens, and my mouth waters as he teases the waistband of his briefs. He gives me an expectant look, and I know if I want more, I’ll have to give more.
I scoot back on the bed to sit against the headboard. I can’t look away from the gold encroaching his eyes as I shimmy out of my suit bottoms. He hungrily licks his lips when I draw my knees up, but I pull the hem of my top between my legs so he can’t see anything.
He groans coarsely. “That’s not fair.”
I can’t help but smirk. “When have we ever played fair, Titus?”
He tilts his head as if to say touchéand pushes down the elastic, taking out his cock.
My heart trips over itself at the sight of his thick, veiny length and glistening red tip. Heat burns up my cheeks and chest, and I feel myself on the verge of going into heat.
“Fuck . . .” I don’t realize I’ve said anything until I hear his throaty chuckle.
“Now, get rid of that fucking top,” he orders in a low, rumbling growl. His already deep voice gets huskier the more the rut seeps into his veins.
My stomach is a mess of butterflies and somersaults as I lift the shirt over my head. My nipples are already tight and pebbled, and his eyes immediately drop to them with a deep exhale.
I crumble the tank into a ball and hold it between my thighs. He sucks on his teeth with a tsk and shake of his head, his thumb rubbing over the wet tip of his cock. “Trade for a trade, Omega.”
“It’s not my fault you have no more clothes left to barter.” My lips tease into a half smile.
“Then ask me a question instead,” he counters.
“Who was the girl downstairs?” It’s the first thing that comes to mind, and it makes a knowing smirk tug on his lips, as if I just admitted he was right and I was in fact jealous.
“Majestic. I used to work security here, and she and I used to . . .” He bobs his head for me to fill in the blanks. “From time to time.”
For some reason, that fact sinks like a block of lead in my stomach. A sour taste on the back of my tongue, I ask, “Did you sleep with her last time you were here?”
“That’s more than one question,” he says tauntingly. I don’t mean to, but I narrow my eyes, and he adds, “No, I didn’t.”
“Oh,” is all I can say, conflicted about the weird sense of relief I feel. Especially given what I did last time he was here, I have no right.
“Wasn’t for a lack of trying on her part though.” He doesn’t say this with any cockiness, instead as if he wants me to know purely for my own reassurance.
I tuck my unjustified envy aside and instead focus on the present. Titus’s forearms flex as he languidly strokes his length. One look in his burning gaze and I know he doesn’t want anyone else but me.
With a thrumming pulse, I toss my shirt and widen my knees to show him my pussy.
“Did she try to get with you before or after you ‘snapped?’” I ask.
“Before.”
My hand slides down my body and dips between the lips of my pussy. I glide over my clit and a small moan slips out. This makes him punch his hips up to thrust into his fist. The way his thighs tighten and his jaw clenches as he does makes me even wetter and my clit throbs.
He stands up and steps out of his pants as he slowly walks to the foot of the bed in strong, confident steps. He keeps stroking his cock, and my lungs squeeze as he puts one knee on the mattress.
For a few shared breaths, we pleasure ourselves while watching each other’s eyes transform to solid gold. He doesn’t move any farther onto the bed, like he’s waiting for an invitation.
“What would you have done if she came in after?” I don’t stop my ministrations as I talk, making my question raspy.
His voice is equally saturated in a haze of lust. “I would have bent her over this bed, shoved her face into the mattress, and kicked her feet apart.” His eyes flick to my feet, so I move them farther apart, spreading my knees wider and wider.
As I do this, he climbs onto the bed. He sits back on his heels and continues to jerk off, his hooded gaze lost between my thighs. His laser-focused attention is both overwhelming and not enough.
I want more, but I can’t have more. All we have is this hypothetical fantasy. So, I ask, “And then . . . ?”
“I’d make her present and use her for what she’s good for,” he says crudely.