Page 95 of Attached At Heart
The question on the tip of my tongue might risk that happening again. That maybe we were about to cross a line that would ruin us in the long run.
Or maybe we weren’t crossing a line at all. Maybe we were just redrawing it.
“Are you going to respect me as your friend tonight?” I pushed myself to ask.
“No.” Once again, no hesitation. Just a blazing confidence that made my heart flip into my throat. “I’m going to fuck you like my wife.”
My jaw dropped, but Blake didn’t waste time stepping toward me.
“Tell me you’re sober, Delaney.”
Once I figured out how to breathe again, I replied, “I’m sober.”
That train ride of torture had ensured that. Plus, I’d only had one glass of wine with dinner and just a taste of that appletini before Blake got rid of it. And now I knew why.
“Good girl.” Blake planted one foot in front of the other, walking slowly toward me. “Now, tell me I can strip that dress off you.” Another step. “I’ll get on my knees and beg if you want me to.”
The intensity of his stare made goose bumps erupt across my skin. “You can strip the dress off me.”
Blake smirked as he closed the distance between us. “So compliant. You must want it bad, Lane.”
I nodded, my eyes fluttering shut as Blake bent his head, leaving a chaste kiss on my collarbone. Then, his finger traced the bone to my shoulder, slipping beneath the dress’s strap and flicking it off.
“Bad,” I repeated, barely a murmur.
“I know, sweetheart,” Blake breathed, and I felt his lips on my other shoulder before that strap fell off, too. “But you’re being such a good wife, and good little wives get to come. Don’t worry.”
I squirmed on my feet, desperate for him to make good on those words. Blake laughed, husky and soft, and I felt it in my very bones.
“Oh, now you’re laughing, huh?” I muttered while Blake pressed against me, reaching around to undo the laces of my dress. “Wasn’t so funny when we were in the club.”
“There’s nothing funny about what’s happening right now.” Blake began peeling my dress off, inch by inch. He straightened once it was bunched around my waist, and his heated gaze met mine, an odd mixture of humor and arousal swirling in its depths. “But I can’t deny that watching you squirm isn’t satisfying.”
I licked my lips, and Blake’s attention dropped to my mouth, his jaw clenching. I put a hand on his chest, feeling the hard wall of muscle against my fingertips. And even that simple touch had Blake breathing faster. Leaning in, I murmured in his ear, “I bet I can satisfy you in other ways, too.”
“Jesusfuck,” Blake swore, his entire body tensing momentarily before he recovered and stripped the rest of my dress off me, dropping to the ground with it. Then, he stilled. And so did I. Everything stayed still—except his eyes. Theywandered in a slow, hot perusal up my body. And when they got to my face, he rasped, “You’re exquisite.”
Fire licked my insides, pooling in my cheeks and between my legs as I looked down at him. My entire body felt flushed, and it only grew worse as Blake, without moving his gaze from mine, reached out and cupped my calf, caressing it as he smoothed his hand down to my ankle. He lifted it gently, placing my foot on his knee. Only then did his eyes lower, dropping to focus on the buckle of my shoe as he undid it. Once he was done, he slipped it off my foot, cupping my heel in his palm.
I cringed and tried to pull back, but his grip tightened. “You don’t want to touch my feet,” I said breathlessly. “They’ve never been the same since I started dancing years ago.”
I’dnever been the same.
Blake flicked his attention up to my face, his expression smoldering and hard. “I want to touch every fucking inch of you, Delaney.”
It felt like he was talking about a lot more than my body, and that thought made it hard to breathe while Blake continued. He held my gaze while moving to the next foot, repeating the same sinfully slow motions.
When he was done, I stood there, in the living room of our rental house, wearing nothing but my underwear and bra in front of my husband. Meanwhile, he still wore his black shirt and slacks, tented by his erection. He was shameless about it, not bothering to hide how much he wanted me as he stood again.
It was time for me to be shameless, too.
“My turn,” I said.
He cocked a brow. “You want to undress me?”
“Yes.”
He spread his arms out in a welcoming gesture. “I’m yours to undress.”
