Page 13 of His to Take

“Please,” I begged, not really knowing what I was begging for.

As he slowly and steadily drew his hands up my back, his touch leaving a trail of heat, he was simultaneously lifting my shirt. His fingertips elicited fiery tingles all over me, which seemed to eventually settle in my pulsing clit. My legs shook a little bit, andI pressed my thighs together in desperation. The muscles of my vagina clenched and I came to the shameful realization that I was wet.

I was aroused. Scientifically, I understood what that meant. Experiencing it, however, was something else entirely.

His lips caressed my cheek as he pulled my shirt higher. Only when it reached my shoulders did I realize what was happening: he was undressing me. My heart was pounding at the thought of being exposed to him.

He hadn’t asked.

I didn’t resist.

He pulled my shirt over my head and down my arms, taking it completely off me and tossing it away. The air conditioning was chilly on my bare stomach. My first instinct was to cover myself, but he wouldn’t allow it, quickly pulling my arms around his neck and capturing me in a second, much rougher kiss.

Fire ignited between us. I could think of nothing but his hands on my skin, his kiss on my lips. His fingertips now flittered along the top of my slacks, dancing over my flesh like he was playing a violin for an audience that only included me.

His fingers deftly unhooked my bra before I even realized what he was doing. My nipples, already pebbled and tingling, instantly tightened even more as he began to slowly pull my bra away from my breasts. One strap slipped off my shoulder and hung down my arm. I cried out, more in surprise than anything else.

He was baring my breasts.

I reached up, desperately trying to put my lingerie back into place. He grabbed my wrists in one smooth motion, backing me up and roughly trapping me against the wall. My bra hung off my shoulders now, the cups only partially covering my breasts. It almost felt even more indecent than being completely naked. Taking both my wrists in his left hand, he held my arms down. I tried to tug free of his iron grasp, but I was completely powerless against his vastly greater strength. He lowered his right hand to the center of my chest, taking hold of my bra, but he didn’t do anything with it. At least, not yet.

His gaze met mine and he stared directly into my eyes for a long moment.

Heat spiraled through my body at what I saw contained within them.

Danger. Temptation. The promise of something new and unimaginably exciting, the revelation of something completely unknown to me, that would result in pure and utter satisfaction.

I swallowed and bit my lip, unable to break his gaze.

“Don’t you dare try to hide your body from me again,” he growled, his brows lowered, his expression serious, but with what looked like an affectionate glint in his eyes. The heavy rumble of his voice vibrated through me, settling deep in my core, and making my clitoris pulse with unfamiliar need.

I lifted my chin, fighting with my desire to submit and the impulse to defy him, just so I could discover what would happen if I did. The dark playfulness in his eyes intensified and my tentative rebelliousness grew bolder.

I tried to jerk my wrists from his grasp again, but his grip was too strong.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered, and my heart leapt into my throat. What did he mean by that? Where was this unexpected encounter headed?

My mind flashed back to the photographs in the wedding album. In my mind’s eye I could see the bride over the groom’s lap, his hand suspended in the air above her naked bottom, a look of lustful desire on his face. Would he ever punish me like that?

I worried the inside of my cheek with my teeth as he tightened his hold on my bra. Without another word, he tore my bra from my body.

The flimsy lace audibly ripped apart as though made of paper. I gasped in shock, staring at the purple fabric as he tossed it aside.

“I liked that,” I breathed in disbelief.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he replied, like it was the simplest thing in the world. I opened my mouth, intending to say something sharp-tongued and quick-witted, but it was as if my brain had short circuited and stopped working entirely.

“Would two suffice?” he asked, lifting an amused eyebrow as his gaze searched mine.

“Yes,” I croaked.

“Then consider it done,” he hummed.

With the cool air now caressing my exposed flesh, my nipples hardened painfully. Goosebumps popped up all over me and I shivered, not from the chill but from sexual arousal. Ryker stared at my naked breasts then lifted my arms above my head, pinning them there.

With his free hand, he traced a finger from the pulse of my throat down the curve of my breast. His touch was like fire and suddenly the whole room seemed to turn into a scorching furnace. Even the air I pulled into my lungs felt like it was sizzling hot.

When he finally brushed his fingertip against my nipple, I stopped breathing entirely. A strangled moan escaped me, and I squeezed my eyes shut when he took just the tip of that nipple between his thumb and forefinger and rolled it ever so slightly. I clamped my traitorous lips closed, not wanting to give away just how much I was enjoying the feeling of his rough touch on my bare skin. When I opened my eyes, he was staring right at me, then he very deliberately dropped his gaze to his fingers on my nipple. He made me watch him looking at me, touching me.

---