Page 10 of Surrender
My eyes close because I didn’t mean to say it out loud. It’s an East London word that an old trainer for Bethnal used a lot, and for some reason it stuck. “It’s a British term for sweet. Treacle is a type of sweet molasses.”
Her nose wrinkles with disgust. “Why would you call me molasses?”
I press my lips to fight the chuckle that is rising in my chest. “Because you smell sweet. You’ve always smelled sweet since the first time I met you. Like syrup.”
“Oh,” she says, looking down and thinking that over. “And you like that?” she asks, looking up at me with hope.
Not at first,is the reply that pops into my head. Instead, I press my nose to her neck. The skin is soft and puckers with goosebumps as I inhale deeply. Lightly touching my lips to her neck, I murmur against her flesh, “I do now.”
Sloan swallows slowly as I pull back and take in her flushed cheeks. “So it’s like a term of endearment?”
“You could call it that.”
Her eyes well with tears, and I fear that I’ve gone too far. A droplet slides down her cheek, so I reach out to cradle her delicate face in my hands. My thumb slowly slicks the moisture away. “I’m sorry if that was too much. I won’t say it again. I just really want to make this pain you have go away. I have to make these tears stop.”
“It’s not too much,” she croaks, leaning into me so our bodies are pressed against each other. I thought it was my lips on her neck that upset her, but now we’re so close I can feel every breath she takes. “I’ve never had a term of endearment.”
I’ve never been inspired to give one,is what I think. Instead, I reply, “You should have that and so much more, Sloan. Just tell me what you want and I will give it to you.” My body is roaring to life in a way I’ve never experienced, and it’s taking every ounce of my control to not ravage her on the spot. But that’s the last thing she needs. She’s come to me saying she feels out of control. I’m not about to enable that feeling.
“What do you mean?” she asks, watching my lips as she licks her tongue across her own.
“Tell me what to do. Give me an order. Whatever you want. You’re not out of control right now, Sloan. You are completely in control. With me. I give itallto you.”
A breath she had been holding escapes her lips in a garbled sort of moan, like the thought of me giving in to her is turning her on. God, I want to see her turned on. I want to see her let go so fucking badly I could roar.
She inhales and husks against my lips, “I…want a lot of things.” Her eyes drift down my body, and her chest rises and falls with deep, labourious breaths.
“Considering how badly I want you right now, I’m bloody well positive you could have anything from me.”
Her eyes snap to mine, and an ember burns in them that wasn’t there before. “Anything?”
I swallow slowly, a heavy, important weight pressing down on me with that single word. “Anything.”
Her voice is quick and brisk, like a flash of lightning. “I want to see you naked.”
Fuck. Me.
It has just been confirmed that the woman I’ve fantasised about nineteen different ways since the second I met her wants me naked. It’s not at all what I expected but more than I could have ever hoped for. I want to thrust my victorious fists in the air and hoot for joy, but I’m going to conceal my childish excitement.
She’s fragile right now. Raw. This needs to be about her desires. Not mine. It’s important for her to know I’m taking her seriously. And there’s no way in hell I want any of this to stop.
Releasing her cheeks, I step back and yank my shirt off over my head. Before my eyes open, she’s in my space, raking her fingers over my shoulders and through the short hairs on my chest. Her eyes watch the action as her nails bite into my flesh, leaving thin red lines as they go.
My grunt has her eyes back on mine. “Do you like that?” she asks nervously, trying to read my expression.
Swallowing and trying to maintain control of my impending erection, I nod slowly. I like it too much. I like it more than I’ve liked a woman’s hands on me in ages. My tone is guttural. “I like it a lot.”
My chest begins rising and falling quicker the longer she looks at me, eyeing me with renewed strength. “Can we really do this?” she asks.
“Yes,” I reply automatically, needful for more. “We can do whatever you want.” And I seriously mean whatever she wants.
“Unbutton your jeans,” she whispers tremulously and takes a step back to watch my reaction.
Her eyes are strong and full of passion. They look confident, no longer crazed and out of control. Giving her this control is a turn-on like I’ve never felt before.
Reaching down, I unbutton the snap of my jeans, pulling apart the zipper seam with a simple bend of my wrist. Sloan’s eyes travel down the line of hair running from my navel to my groin. She bites her lip and her head lolls back like she’s trying to maintain control of herself.
Fuck me. I’m not even touching her and she’s reacting this strongly. Don’t fucking stop, Treacle.
