Page 52 of Bought
It’s only moments later and we’re walking hand in hand toward my apartment. I feel her trembling beside me, feel her anticipation radiating through her skin. She’s holding that little shopping bag like it’s a lifeline, knuckles white with nerves.
Her silence is loud. Her mind is spinning.
I want to tell her to take a deep breath. But I don’t. I like her nervous. I like that I’m the one breaking through her innocence.
She’s about to be mine. I’ll be the first man to feel her, to be inside her, to know her body like no one man has. The security doors feel endless. I hate how they delay me from getting her alone.
Every second I’m not touching her feels like I’m preparing for war.
She tosses me a cautious glance.
“You okay?” I ask.
“You’ve done this a million times.” She lightens her comment with a joke, “Even with professionals. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
She has no idea. No one has ever gotten under my skin like this.
I bring her hand to my lips, kissing her fingers. “I’ll take care of you.”
We step inside.
She’s been here before but this time, it’s different. The moment she crosses the threshold, the energy shifts. I don’t give her timeto second-guess. I place the bags down. She sets hers on the table.
She’s waiting. Unsure. Teetering between flight and surrender.
I close the distance.
My fingers tilt her chin up. Her skin is warm, flushed. She’s shaking.
“You’re trembling,” I say, edged with hunger.
She tries to laugh. “Maybe I should be.”
“Maybe you should.” I lean in, not to reassure but to claim. “Or maybe you already know that you’re safe with me.”
Her breath catches.
I don’t give her time to respond.
I kiss her. Deeply. Slowly. Holding her.
She clutches at my shirt, those delicate fingers fisting the fabric. Her knees buckle, and I tighten my grip.
When I pull back, I keep my lips brushing hers. “You’re mine tonight. Every inch.”
Something shifts in her. That wall she keeps between us? Crumbles.
She doesn’t argue. Doesn’t run. I take it as her consent to carry her off to my bed to be ravished head to toe. She gasps as her arms wrap around my neck. I carry her to the room and shut the door behind us. The world vanishes.
When I break the kiss, I press my forehead to hers.
“I’ll go slow,” I rasp. “But make no mistake, Erin. You’re mine tonight. All of you.”
I lay her down gently, but my hands stay on her. They trace her curves, her ribs, her thighs. I memorize her through touch. “You’re perfect,” I brush my thumb along her bottom lip. “And trembling, but your eyes are begging me.”
“I’m not—” she starts.
Her words crumble the second I kiss her again, my mouth devouring her soft protest. I taste her hesitation. I taste her need.
