Page 80 of One Last Encore

"They’re powerful," he said quietly, still working slow circles into her skin. "Youare powerful."

"You just turned one of my biggest insecurities into something..." she trailed off, her voice barely a whisper. "Into something I might actually believe is beautiful."

"Everything about you is," Beck murmured, his voice rough with emotion, his hands still working over the strained muscles of her feet. Ingrid flushed, sinking deeper against the cushions.

His hands drifted higher, his touch featherlight against her calf. Ingrid sucked in a breath, a soft moan escaping her as she arched slightly against the couch. Oh fuck. That sound–he felt it straight in his cock, a sharp pulse of want that made his jeans feel about two sizes too tight.

"Beck," she whispered, her lashes fluttering closed, her body instinctively leaning toward his touch.

She had no idea what she was doing to him. That moan, his name, breathy and broken on her lips, it was driving him wild. His cock throbbed, hard and heavy in his jeans, straining for any kind of relief. Still, Beck held back, keeping his touch slow, dragging his fingers higher up her legs, tracing her calves.

But then she shifted. Just enough. Her other foot brushed across his lap–right over his cock.

Beck’s breath hitched, a harsh sound, his muscles going rigid as the pressure hit him square in the groin. His cock twitched at the contact, hot and aching.

Ingrid froze for a second. Then her gaze lifted to his, sharp and knowing.

A slow, wicked smile spread across her lips as the realization sank in.

"You weren’t kidding," she murmured, sultry and smug. Her toes moved deliberately, rubbing along the thick line of him beneath his jeans, pressing right where he was hardest.

Beck’s breath punched out of him in a curse. "Fuck."

His hands clenched on her legs, grip tightening as she continued her slow, torturous game.

"You’re definitely not turned off by my feet," she teased, biting her bottom lip.

"Careful," he said, his voice rough, dark. "You’re playing with fire, princess."

Her eyes sparkled, wild and unafraid. "Maybe I want to get burned."

He looked her over, her cheeks flushed, lips parted, her chest rising fast with every breath. She looked like a dream.

Ingrid pushed onto her hands and she crawled toward him across the couch. Her eyes fixed on him. She climbed into his lap, knees sliding wide to straddle his thighs, her hips lowering onto the thick, hard line of him beneath his jeans. The popcorn bowl clattered to the floor somewhere behind them.

Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, her body melting against his.

"Christ," Beck breathed, his hands sliding up her thighs, finding the curve of her ass and squeezing, dragging her hard against him. She gasped at the contact, feeling every inch of him, thick and aching beneath the denim.

"You feel what you do to me?" he rasped against her ear, grinding up into her, letting her feel exactly how badly he needed her.

She whimpered, grinding back without hesitation, the friction making her head fall back on a broken moan.

Beck latched onto her throat, kissing and sucking a path down the delicate line of her neck. Ingrid clung to him, hips rolling against his with desperate, needy little movements that had him seeing stars.

"You’re gonna kill me," he groaned, his teeth grazing her skin.

She only smiled, breathless. "Then die happy."

He crushed his mouth to hers, finally tasting the sounds she had been making, swallowing her moans as his hands roamedunder her shirt, finding bare, heated skin. She arched against him, her nails scraping along his scalp, driving him out of his mind.

He had never wanted anyone the way he wanted her. And he was going to show her exactly how beautiful she was, every goddamn inch at a time.

She arched into his touch, grinding against him with punishing rolls of her hips that had his head falling back.

"Fuck, Ingrid," he rasped. Every muscle in his body trembling with the effort it took not to flip her onto the couch and fuck her right there.

But not yet. She was in control, and he was giving it to her, every second of it, because watching her take what she wanted, watching her move like she owned his body was damn near holy.

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