Page 83 of Left-Hand Larceny
“Tonight,” I say, kissing the space between her brows, “you d-don’t have to do a-a-anything.”
She swallows, but doesn’t move. Her fingers twitch like she still wants to help, to earn it. Like letting someone undress her and see her without giving something back might break her in half.
I step closer.
“Lie b-back,Sæt stelpa. A-anytime you w-want to s-s-stop, y-you say ‘stop,’já?”
She hesitates—only for a second—then climbs onto the bed. Her dress rides up over her thighs as she settles into the pillows, eyes never leaving mine. I follow slowly, standing over her. The soft pink lamplight turns her skin golden, turns the nervous set of her jaw into something holy.
“H-hands above your h-head,” I say.
She raises them, folding them at the wrists like she’s holding herself together. She’s breathing fast now.
I place a hand on her thigh, just above the knee, grounding her. “Okay?”
She blinks. “Yes”
“Good girl.”
That wrecks her. Her head tips back. Her mouth parts on a moan. I say a prayer of thanks that I didn’t trip over those two words.
I bend her ankle, slowly tracing the line of her leg, up and up, until my fingers catch the hem of her skirt.
“You’re b-beautiful,” I murmur as I push the fabric higher. “S-sexy. C-caring. Intelligent.” She squirms as my fingers trace the back of her kneecap. “A-and you’re m-mine to touch. F-for tonight. Understand?”
She nods. Her eyes are glassy, lips trembling—but not from fear. From surrender.
From trust.
I press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. She trembles, but she obeys.
I drag her dress up her body inch by inch, revealing her slowly, reverently, until the silk pools around her waist. She’s wearing the tiniest pair of black lace panties I’ve ever seen and I grind my erection into her mattress before I can stop myself. Sadie starts to sit up, like she wants to help, wants to do something, anything.
“No.”
She freezes.
“I s-said let me.”
She swallows, lying back down, arms trembling where they rest above her. Her fingers curl into the slats of her headboard this time. I swallow my groan at the sight of her.
We’re kissing again, deeper now. More urgency, more need. Her fingers fumble for my belt and I shake my head, moving them back above hers. It takes seconds to slip my belt free and push my slacks and briefs down.
“L-lift your hips,”. I say, and she does, letting me to tug her panties the rest of the way off. “Fokk, Sadie.” my eyes are glued to the glistening pink of her pussy.
“Please, Ragnar.” It takes effort to drag my gaze from her perfect cunt, but I’m grateful I do. Her head thrashes against her pillows, dark curls spilling like an oil slick. “Please.”
“P-please what,Sæt stelpa?”
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and no, that’s my job. I stamp my mouth over hers, sucking the taste of her into my soul. She moans into my mouth, arching her hips and our legs brush together.
“Fokk,” I hiss.
“You’re—uh—kind of big,” she whispers, eyes darting to my dick.
I grin. “You s-saying that l-l-like it’s a-a problem?”
“No,” she says, breath catching as she meets my eyes. “Definitely not.”
