Page 6 of House Rules
“I know what you are. That’s not what I asked. Why are you hiding in my closet?” His blue eyes sparkle with a blend of malice and mischief, and I know this is a game to him. He’s toying with me.
Temper flares, and part of me wants to fight back, to tell him to back off. But I can’t. If he figures out what I was really doing in here, learns that his room isn’t even on my rotation today…
I swallow and clear my throat. “I was cleaning, and I heard you come in and I?—”
“You what?” His voice lowers, grows husky and taunting. “Wanted to see what it would be like if you were the one in my bed? Oh wait—been there, done that, got the T-shirt. Did the show live up to your expectations?”
Heat rises in my body, and my neck and cheeks flush at his accuracy. I can still feel the warm moisture between my thighs as my clit pulses, begging for his attention.
“No answer? Nothing to say? I guess I am just going to have to find out for myself.”
Before I even understand what he means, his hand is up my skirt, settling warm and deliberate on thecotton covering my pussy. My eyes close, and my head sags backward, hitting the wall with a thunk. I know he can feel how wet I am. How needy.
This is the single-most humiliating thing to ever happen to me, and it’s one hundred percent my fault.
“Fuck me,” he swears, a note of surprise in his voice as a finger moves beneath the gusset of my panties and slides along my slit, pressing briefly against my clit before plunging inside of me.
“Con—” I jerk against his hand and reach for his wrist.
“Not a word,” he growls, taking my other hand in his and stretching it above my head, effectively shackling me to the wall. “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here, but I can feel how much you want this. The only thing I want to know is how badly you want it. The girl who just left said she needed it. She lied. Her body didn’t crave me the way it needed to.”
“I—”
“Not a word,” he cuts me off again, his body moving closer and pressing me more firmly againstthe wall. “She lied, and I’m tired of lies. I’m not even going to give you the chance to lie to me again.” His thumb circles my clit for a moment, and I bite down on my bottom lip to stop the moan begging to be set free.
And then, very deliberately, I let my body relax beneath his hand.
This is an opportunity.
Not a safe one. Not a smart one. But maybe the only one I have to walk away from this man without my blood on his hands.
I know what this looks like. What it feels like. But I’m not giving in to him.
I’m giving in to me.
Just long enough to survive this.
On some primal level, I understand that what Con really wants is submission—but he wants that submission to be soaked in genuine desire. For him. He wants me to give control over to him and capitulate to my own need.
If I have to reveal that need so he doesn’t figure out the real reason why I was in here, my pride is asmall price to pay. If I say no, if I fight him, if I run—he’ll realize I wasn’t just in here to spy on him while he fucked another woman, or catch up on old times.
He’ll see the truth.
And that truth won’t set me free. It’ll bind me to a bullet or a shallow grave.
So I relax, and let my hips move in sync with his fingers. His thumb expertly plays with my clit while a second finger joins the first inside me, and my thighs begin to shake. I couldn’t stop them if I wanted to, and I don’t want to. This is the last time anything like this will ever happen, so why shouldn’t I enjoy it?
His fingers move from my pussy to press down on my clit, leaving me empty and aching, and then slide back and dive into my pussy. Instantly I clench around his fingers; I can’t help it. A low groan escapes me, and my fingers tighten around the wrist of the hand he has down my panties.
Not to push him away, though. I press his hand harder against me.
A wicked smile carves his features. “Atta girl,” he purrs, and that praise lifts my heart and makes all of this feel even better. “So fucking wet for me. So…fucking…sweet.”
He leans down, his nose skating along the column of my throat. That cologne that surrounded me in his closet smells even better on his skin.
My heart is beating so fast, I feel a little dizzy, lost to the pressure building swiftly and inexorably in my core.
Can he make me come with just his fingers?
