Page 54 of Capricorn

There are none.

Does he want me bare for my hands…or his?

I slip on the babydoll number, and anticipation thrums where I’m still tender from the wax. The bedtime ritual waits like a path I’ve walked too many times.

After three weeks of edging under his illicit stare, I ache to take the next step.

Crossing into my bathroom on unsteady feet, I go through the motions of my nightly skin routine before returning to the bedroom.

But I don’t pull back the covers—not with the fireplace painting the room in pale amber rose, its heat licking at my exposed skin. Instead, I climb onto the mattress and sink into the pillows, my desire simmering in my belly, banked like embers.

My nipples tighten through the lace-cut slits, and I roll them between my fingers, nails freshly polished to match the sultry hue of my lingerie. Stretching out my limbs, I let the sheer skirt fall open.

And that’s how I wait for the sound of his approach, fingertips veiling the peaks of my breasts, legs pressed together to obscure the view of my pussy.

He doesn’t keep me waiting long.

Oliver’s silhouette fills the doorway, and my breath catches as his molten gaze drags over every inch of me. Something flares in his expression.

Appreciation?

Or a craving that torments?

I meet him head-on, part my thighs, and offer what he hasn’t seen since I entered this house.

It’s a provocation.

An undeniable dare.

A demand for action.

And yet, a twitch of his jaw is all I get. Gritting my teeth, I slide my fingers through the slick folds of my pussy and let a moan break free.

Loud.

Needy.

Frustrated.

I’m wearing the lingerie he chose, putting everything on display, no sheets, no shame. And yet…

He still doesn’t move.

Will he ever?

“Oliver.” His name escapes in a plea, cloaked in seduction, floating on the air like a siren’s lure.

As if absorbing the impact of my voice, he sucks in a ragged breath and starts toward me, each step a release of restraint. By the time he reaches the bed and crawls over me, hovering but not touching, his loose shirt grazing my nipples, I’m ready to fly apart.

A hoarse whimper rasps out of me.

“Don’t come yet.” He takes me by the chin.

The air between us crackles, and another groan spills free.

He pushes a finger past my lips. “Suck.”

“Mmm.” I envelop him in the eager seal of my mouth.

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