Page 222 of Torrid Passion
My skin feels ablaze. Without the ability to see, all my other senses are ignited.
“Step out of the dress,” he commands.
I do as I’m told.
“Wow, gorgeous, that is one sinful combo.”
“Thanks.”
Yeah, I might’ve gone a little—okay, a lot—nuts at French Appliqué.
“I’ve been hard since I landed at LAX, but now—I doubt there are any words to describe how much I want to fuck you.”
Arousal hums in my blood, traveling through my veins like a torpedo.
“As much as I want to rip these lacy panties off you with my teeth, I won’t,” he says. “They’re too pretty. I’ll spare them… this time.”
I laugh.
Once in a while, he’ll get all caveman on me and rip my panties right off my body. His excuse? He can’t control himself when he’s around me. Of course, I forgive him every time.
Loki slowly peels off my bra and slides my panties down my legs. Without being told, I step out of them and kick them to the side.
“Good girl.”
Suddenly he sweeps me into his arms and carries me.
My pulse quickens.
“I want you on all fours,” he commands, placing me gently down on the bed.
“Okay,” I say, adjusting myself.
He lets out a low growl. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful like that.”
Then everything around me seems to go quiet.
“Where did you go?” I ask.
“I’m right here, gorgeous,” he gently caresses my back. “I know I have many talents, but I can’t wrap you in my arms and undress at the same time. I’m not that gifted.”
I giggle. “Carry on!”
“Thank you, My Grace.”
A triumphant grin curves my lips.
Slap.
Ouch.
“I saw that,” he warns.
Now that my heart isn’t beating so loud, I can hear the sound of his belt buckle, a zipper sliding down and then a rustle of fabric followed by two distinct thumping sounds.
Not that I’m complaining about our kinky game, but it’s a shame I don’t get to see him in his tuxedo. He really does it justice. And it’s a crying shame, I don’t get to enjoy watching him strip naked.
I don’t have time to cry in my soup.
