Page 23 of Dear Santa, Send Me a Cowboy
His brows were drawn inward, but it was clear my answer had given him some sort of sick satisfaction.
“Yeah? How about an orgasm? And I’m not talking about a half-assed one that leaves you wanting more.” His free handhad found its way up my shirt, his fingers teasing their way up toward my breasts. They felt heavier, fuller than usual, like they were desperate for his touch that was soon coming.
Moments later, he engulfed my whole breast into his large hand. Squeezing, kneading, pleasuring.
My eyes rolled.
“I’m talking about a proper fuckin’ orgasm. The kind that leaves you on the edge of your seat, your vision blurring, and your legs feeling like they could give out at any moment.”
Oh my god.
The mouth on this man. I don’t think I’d ever get enough of it.
“That’s… that’s none of your business.”
It was obvious my answer was that of a woman who had yet to have that type of experience, but that didn’t stop him from pressing on.
“I’m makin’ it my business,” he said through gritted teeth as he switched up his thrusting, and pulled me down onto his hardness.
“I haven't’!” I cried out, head tossed back and desperate to feel more of him. “I’ve never… I’ve never had anything like that.”
His movements stopped altogether. At first, I felt annoyed that he stopped but as my desire-filled haze cleared, I took in his expression.
Awe.
Longing.
So much need that I could feel myself leaking my wetness into his lap.
His gaze unblinking, he removed his hand from my breast and buried it into the hair on the back of my head.
“We’ll take it slow,” he reassured, his touch soothing as it grazed my skin. “The ball’s in your court now, Diana. Do whatyou want to me. Whatever the hell you want, and I’ll gladly take it.”
My chest inflated at his words.
Do what you want to me.
He was handing over the power, a man so intent on proving that I was entirely too bossy. I knew it couldn’t have been easy to submit himself like that. Lawson was built like I was. Independent, dominant, and liked things a certain way, so having him give that up for me, it made me see him in a whole new light.
And as much I loathed to admit it, I found myself craving his submission just as much as I loved having him put me in my place.
His surrender only made things more challenging for me.
For my heart.
We both seemed to be caught up in the anticipation of what my next move was going to be. Whether I would challenge him like before or give in. The air had turned thick with wild, pumping hearts and tattered breaths. Then taking a deep breath, I began to rise from his lap, feeling the weight of his gaze on me.
Concern flickered across his face, mingling with annoyance and perhaps even anger, but he eased his grip and let me stand.
As I faced him, I swallowed hard, forcing down the nervous lump in my throat before meeting his eyes.
With a sudden rush of confidence, I hooked my fingers into the hem of my pajama pants and yanked them down my legs, leaving me exposed and dripping onto the carpet below me. His gaze turned dark with raw arousal, wide and hungry.
His reaction set me ablaze.
“Keep the pants on, cowboy,” I teased, a playful smirk hitting my lips.
Then from the adrenaline of the moment, I boldly climbed back into his lap, bracketing my legs on each side of his wide-set thighs.
