Page 112 of Lush

I glanced back, the heat of his gaze quickening my pulse. “Good things come to those who wait.”

Reese shifted in his seat, his legs spreading as he settled deeper, his fingers gripping the armrests, a slight smirk curling on his lips. The power in his stare, the way he was so comfortably at ease, watching me—it sent a thrill through me, making me feel every inch of his attention.

“Slower,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

I let my fingers slide slowly along the curve of my neck, head tilting slightly, feeling his eyes follow every movement. He leaned forward slightly, lifting his hands just enough to let the hem of my dress rise, exposing my thighs. The way he looked at me almost possessively made my heart race, but it only fueled me more.

“Like this?”

Reese’s tongue darted out, catching the corner of his lip—a quick, slick movement that sent a tremble of power down my spine, the taste of anticipation thick in the air. I approached him, leaning forward, hands on his knees.

“You’re making it real hard to stay in this chair.” His eyes locked on to mine, a dark fire burning within them, daring, warning, promising all at once. But I stayed put.

“Strip.”

I froze, a gasp caught in my throat.

“You heard me.”

Not wanting back down, I reached for the straps of my dress. I slid one strap off my shoulder, then the other, the cool silk slipping down inch by inch.

His green eyes got darker, his smirk disappearing, replaced by a serious, almost animalistic look. “Keep going.”

The quiet command, husky and low, sent a wave of heat through me, and I obeyed, pushing the dress lower, letting the silk pool at my feet. The air kissed my bare skin, cool against the heat radiating off me, and I resisted the urge to cover myself.

“You’re stunning,” he murmured, his voice almost reverent. “Now, dance for me.”

My heart raced, but there was a strange, intoxicating sense of power in the vulnerability. I could do this. I could own this.

“Take the bra off.”

My stomach twisted, doubt flickering briefly before I exhaled sharply and unclasped my bra. The fabric, smooth and cool, parted, revealing my skin, which prickled under Reese’s unwavering gaze; the silence hummed with unspoken tension.

“God, they’re still so beautiful, just like the rest of you,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “So fucking pretty.”

My breath quickened. He wasn’t judging, wasn’t pulling back. He was consumed by me, by how I moved, by how my body responded to him.

“On your knees.”

I didn’t hesitate. I sank to the floor, the cold surface againstmy skin only adding to the heat coursing through me. Our eyes locked, the tension between us palpable, silent but deafening.

“You still remember how this goes?”

I nodded and crawled slowly over to him, and he leaned back, watching as I placed my hands on his knees. Without a word, he allowed me to pull him out of his pants.

I let myself feel him, without the rush and frenzy of emotion. My hand ran from the base of his dick to his tip, his throbbing veins standing at attention. I wanted this, wanted to give him every ounce of pleasure he’d ever craved, to feel him unravel beneath my touch.

He didn’t speak, but the way his jaw tightened and his chest rose and fell told me everything I needed to know. My eyes stayed trained on his face, memorizing every twitch and parting of his lips.

Reese’s hand cupped the back of my head, his fingers threading gently through my hair as he guided me closer. The warmth of his touch sent a ripple of heat down my spine, igniting every nerve ending. I let my tongue roll over the seam of my lips, teasing him, savoring the way his body tensed beneath my hand as I continued to stroke him with deliberate, unhurried movements.

I glanced up, meeting his eyes—dark, hooded, and filled with an unspoken need that mirrored my own. His grip tightened, not demanding, but urging, and the quiet groan that escaped his lips sent a thrill through me.

Slowly, I leaned forward, my lips brushing over his sensitive tip as my hand slid to steady him. I let my tongue flick out, tasting him, reveling in the low, guttural sound he made in response.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice rough, his control slipping with every passing second. The power of it, the way I could unravel him so completely, filled me with a heady mix of pride and desire.

I took him deeper, letting the weight of him rest heavy on mytongue. My lips stretched around his length, and his taste, warm and musky, spread across my palate.

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