Page 102 of Point of Contention
“What are you thinking?” he said as he entered the bedroom behind me, his voice unsteady.
I lifted my gaze and met his eyes in the reflection. “I like it.”
His eyes narrowed, then he tilted his head, stepping behind me until his body was pressed against the length of mine. He circled his arms around my waist and rested his head on my shoulder, taking in the sight of me in the mirror. After a moment, he lifted his head, then trailed his fingertips down my side, from the swell of my breast to the curve of my hip.
I shivered as he released goosebumps over my skin, then I leaned back, resting my head on his shoulder.
Cabot continued his slow, teasing exploration of my body, trailing his fingertips over my skin, connecting the dots of my bruises, then he reached up to my throat and moved the teardrop diamond back and forth on the chain. “And this? What do you think about this?”
I smiled, then brushed my fingertips over his where they held the diamond. “I think it’s too much.” I grinned. “But I love it.”
I felt his body move as he swallowed. “And what it signifies?” His voice was soft, barely a whisper. This was what he worried about, whether I truly accepted the collar.
“I love that, too.”
He hummed a sound of pleasure, then stretched his hand across my throat and gripped me tightly, holding me against his body. I bit back a triumphant smile as he licked a slow stroke up my throat, then dropped his hand from my belly to between my legs, cupping me firmly. “Still mad at me?”
“Very.”
“Hm…” He stroked his middle finger over my clit then drove it through my lips, pressing against my hole but not slipping inside. “Can’t have her mad at me.”
He circled the hole and I whimpered.
“Look at yourself, Rylan.”
I focused on my reflection.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He held my head in place with his hand at my throat, then the other moved deeper as he pushed his middle finger inside me. “So fucking sexy,” he said on a sigh. He pumped his finger in and out slowly and I tilted my head back, closing my eyes.
“Now… where do you want me?”
My eyes flew open and met his in the glass.
His lips twitched. One eyebrow crept up. “Dealer’s choice, Ms. Blake. Make it a good one.”
I bit down on my bottom lip, considering my options, but the way his finger stroked so rhythmically within me made it difficult to focus on anything but that connection.
“Bed?” he asked.
I shook my head.
He flicked his thumb against my clit. “Shower?”
“No,” I moaned.
“Couch and kitchen island have been done. Playroom…”
I shook my head.
“We could christen my home office.”
I licked my lips, then turned to look out the window. “Do you have a balcony?”
Cabot chuckled. “My sweet girl, so adventurous.” He pulled free of me and slipped his other hand into mine, lacing our fingers together. “Yes, I have a balcony.”
Down a hallway and a few turns later, I was presented with hisbalcony.
And I stood there on the threshold, eyes blinking as I took it all in, my mouth agape.
