Page 267 of The Rules
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The room hums with low light and lower intentions. A soft amber glow glistens off hardwood floors.
Kath steps back, the remote still in her hand. She pressesplay. The record whispers, then moans—jazz melting through the air like smoke through silk.
Then she moves.
Not with the brash rhythm of the club. This is slower.More dangerous.Every step, every sway is deliberate—burlesque seduction at its most intoxicating.
She lifts her arms above her head, hips rolling, wrists turning in slow, serpentine waves. The oversized shirt slides up—inchby delicious inch—as her hands trail over her body, palms dragging from her throat to her chest.
She lets the hem ride high on her thighs, revealing more of those bare legs.
Then she turns.
Back to him. A glance over her shoulder—wicked, playful,designed to ruin him.
She hooks a finger into the neckline of the tee, dragging it off one shoulder with a slow, teasing shimmy. Then the other.
Ben’s breath catches. His fingers dig into the couch cushions beside him, clinging to composure he doesn’t fucking have.
She peels the shirt off—tosses it aside.
Underneath?
A pale pink lace bralette, delicate andutterly obscenein how little it hides. Matching panties—barely there, soft ribbon at the sides.
She runs a hand down her side, cupping her breast through the lace. Her head tilts, lips parting on a breathy sigh as she dances for herself. For him. For the tension coiling in her core.
Kath is on fire.
But the real heat is behind her eyes.
Her own thighs press together as she gets closer. Every beat of the music pushing her toward him.
And then—she straddles him.
Ben doesn’t move. Can’t. His breath stutters when she settles on his lap, the weight of her over his cock—only separated by thin cotton and thinner lace.
Kath feels it. All of it.
The thick pressure beneath her. The burn of his skin against hers, electric and unrelenting. The way his arms flex, holding still like he’ssecondsfrom grabbing her and destroying every inch of patience he’s clung to.
She’s so close, she can feel his heart pounding under her palm as she places one hand against his bare chest. Their eyes lock.
And everything stops.
No stage. No lights. No lies. Just her body, trembling with control she’s faking, and his, radiating tension he can’t hold much longer.
Kath whispers. “No more games.”
Ben’s hands finally rise—hot and steady, gripping her waist. Firm. Possessive. Dangerous. Like he knows this moment isn’t just about lust. It’s aboutclaiming.
His voice scrapes from his throat, raw and unsteady at the edges—a man fighting for control that's already slipping away. "I've waited for this. For you." The confession vibrates through Katherine's skin, each syllable a physical touch.
"Then stop waiting."
It leaves her mouth without hesitation, a challenge and a promise wrapped in one. Her pulse thrums wild as she sees his eyes darken, pupils dilating like hunger let off its leash.
