Page 41 of Yearn
I let a slow smile curve my mouth, tilting my head as if I were amused. “If I put pants on, you wouldn’t keep looking at me the way you are right now.”
Her breath caught, but she didn’t flinch. “And you like when I look at you?”
“I do. I didn’t work out to get this body just to lift things. I like the beauty of the muscle, the discipline behind it. And I like the attention it gets me—especially when it’syourattention.”
Her brows arched, teasing but curious. “Why especially mine?”
“Because in the end. . .yours is the only attention that matters. Everyone else could disappear, but as long as your eyes were still on me, I’d feel alive.”
Teyonah’s breath hitched when I stepped closer, my size filling the tiny space of the apartment like a cage around her.
She had to tilt her head back to meet my eyes, curls brushing her silk-clad shoulders, lips parting just slightly.
Heat surged low. Blood flooded thick and insistent, making the towel strain and barely able to contain me.
I clenched my jaw to keep from groaning, to keep from grabbing her hand and pressing it there so she’d know exactly how bad she had undone me.
And then I saw it. . .
Her nipples pressed against the silk, dark tips tightening under the thin red fabric, hard peaks I couldn’t stop staring at.
I didn’t even hide the fact that I was looking at her breasts.
Mmm.
I wanted to tell her how every vein in my body dilated just for her, how my cock strained like it needed a tourniquet, how my anatomy textbooks never covered the organ that hurt most when it swelled with need, but she was giving me those lessons on that topic more and more.
She clearly noticed because soon she crossed her arms over them like she could hide her hunger. “So. . .I just came down to. . .uh. . .”
She’s fucking speechless and turned on.
I smirked because now I was finally getting the clear confirmations that I needed. No longer was this all in my head.
She wants me too.
All this time I’d been willing to fight my forbidden urges for her, willing to hold it all back like some caged animal pacing behind bars.
I’d told myself I could live with restraint, that I could bury the hunger in textbooks and cold showers. That I could respect the boundary, keep my distance, pretend the heat between us wasn’t real.
But it was real.
Right here.
Right now.
Her nipples were hard for me. Her gaze was stuck on my cock. Her breath was catching like she’d been caught in a lie. And she’d fucking forgot the whole reason why she’d even come down.
And Christ—if I’d been starving before, this was the scent of blood. My veins lit up, my muscles locked, and every ounce of discipline I’d built cracked. Hunger like this wasn’t rational, wasn’t polite. It was savage, a pulse that told me to take, to claim,to ruin every inch of her until she understood who she belonged to.
My heart slammed in my chest, not with guilt but with excitement. A wild, thundering pulse of pure male triumph.
She really wants me.
Maybe she’d been trying to fight it for a long time too, but desire doesn’t lie. Silk doesn’t harden against nothing. Eyes didn’t linger where they shouldn’t unless the body was begging for it.
I straightened my shoulders, the towel straining even tighter at my waist, my cock jerking like it knew the hunt had started.
No more pretending.
