Page 55 of A Lethal Game of Trust
“Patience, Leonie,” he said, his voice gruff. “We have a while.”
Yes, because his sister could come back at any point.
“This,” he said and cupped my pussy aggressively, “is all mine tonight. I’m taking full advantage.”
“Take this off,” I begged with another tug.
He stepped back and undressed, the low silver light showingoff his whole body. The hard muscle, the smooth skin, the graceful way he moved. I wanted this man more than I’d wanted anything.
He grabbed my ass again — he was definitely more of an ass guy than a tits guy — and kissed me desperately. He pulled me closer and I wrapped my legs around him. His boxers were in the way. The strap of lace was in the way.
I needed him bare as he’d said.
My hands looped around his neck as I rolled my hips against him. “When… when are your results?”
The kiss broken, he nipped at the crease of my throat as he walked us to the living room. He carried my weight easily as if I were nothing but a gym bag.
Dom dropped me onto the sofa. “Tomorrow,” he said gruffly, annoyed at himself. “Can you remember what you lied about earlier?” he asked, looking down at me, a dark glint in his eye.
“That I regretted it,” I said, shame clear in my voice but I grabbed the elastic waist of his boxers and pulled him closer to me. “Enough talking.”
“You said you did a better job yourself,” he crooned, a wicked smile on his face. “So show me.”
How many times had I imagined my own fingers as his? How many times had I whispered his name into the pillow as I came?
But this…
“It wasn’t a suggestion, Leo,” he growled and leaned over me. “Spread those legs and make yourself come.”
Stalling, I dragged two fingers up my inner thigh as he sat before me on the floor. His eyes were level with my hips. “It doesn’t seem fair to get the pleasure before the punishment.”
He chuckled, eyes locked on my fingers. “I know you’re going to be a lying brat in a second, so I thought we’d get all of your lies out the way first. Touch yourself, don’t make me say it again.”
I ran the tips of my fingers over the lace as he had done minutes ago.
“Is this how you normally do it?” he asked, a brow cocked, his tone disbelieving. “Or are you just teasing me?”
“Sometimes I just like to tease myself,” I whispered as I traced the edge of my underwear, imagining it was his touch, remembering what it looked like for his head to be between my thighs.
“Show me,” he begged and when I opened my eyes, he was on his knees on the floor, staring intently. “Show me how wet you are.”
“Maybe I like to tease you, too,” I said with a little breathless smile. God, this was the worst torment of my life. My pussy was pulsing and it had hardly been touched.
He gave up. His rough hands pushed my thighs apart and then he ripped my knickers off. Ripped then pulled them out from underneath me.
My gasp was lost in the shock of the motion, at the air suddenly surrounding me.
I’d never hesitated when it came to sex. I took what I wanted, gave what I wanted. But here…
Here, my fingers jerked awkwardly towards my clit. Robotically.
His gaze was intense on my movements as he licked his lips.
He wanted to fuck me.
He’d begged for this.
Dom Belov wanted me.
