Page 21 of Captive Audience
“We’re not just going to break your dry spell, we’re going to shatter it. So let me tell you how this is going to go.” Rook’s voice was a low growl as he pinned me to the wall. “First, I’ll make you come. Then I’ll fuck you slow, hard, and every way you need. And if you’re a very good girl, we’ll keep doing that until you can’t stand. I’ll have you shaking, dripping, and begging for more. Say you want that, pet.”
My breath caught in my throat. I wasn’t afraid. Nothing about Rook scared me in the way it should. It was the intensity in his eyes, the promise in his tone, the way every part of me lit up under his stare.
Great. I was turned on by his dominance. That felt healthy. This was probably the part where a smarter woman would run.
I was not that woman. I nodded fast and whispered, “I want that.”
God help me, I would let this man do unspeakable things to me.
“Good. If I only get this night with you, I’m going to make sure you remember it every time you close your eyes.”
Then his mouth crashed to mine, and our bodies fused as I grabbed at him, a rock climber scrambling to find purchase on a cliff face.
Rook’s kiss was commanding, savage, desperate. Nothing likethe sloppy first kisses I’d had before. He didn’t fumble or hesitate. He kissed me as though he’d been rehearsing it, as though my mouth already belonged to him.
My ears popped just as the elevator dinged open. Rook lifted me like I weighed nothing and wrapped my legs around his lean waist.
“You know this is insane, right?” I said against his lips as he carried me into the apartment.
“Aye,” he muttered. “I’ve lost my mind over you.”
His words knocked the air out of me. So did the view.
I pulled back from the kiss to take it all in. The soaring ceilings, gleaming designer kitchen, the massive expanse of windows overlooking the glittering city.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “This place belongs onMillion Dollar Listing.”
Rook didn’t respond. He buried his face in my neck and inhaled as if he were trying to imprint my scent into his memory. “You smell so fucking good.”
Then he stalked down the hallway, past abstract art and low lighting.
He pushed into the bedroom. Moody walls, plush furnishings, floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing stunning city views.
I had half a second to clock the enormous bed and impossibly soft-looking duvet before he tossed me onto it.
“Strip,” he said. Just one word. Low, steady, final.
My heart thundered in my chest. Not from nerves. From the way he stood over me like he owned the air I was breathing.
“Bossy much?” I flashed him a teasing smile.
“Aye.” His gaze swept over me, dark and hungry. “And you’re going to do what you’re told anyway.”
All right. I’d play his game.
I sat up and reached for the zipper on my dress, hands fumbling under the weight of his stare. The fabric slid down my arms and pooled in my lap before I shimmied out of it completely.
“Bra,” he ordered roughly.
My fingers worked the clasp, and I dropped the bra on the floor.
Rook’s jawflexed. “Panties.”
I didn’t hesitate. I slipped them down my legs quickly and kicked them to the side.
He let out a slow, controlled exhale. “Spread your legs for me.”
With any other man, a demand such as that would’ve sparked anxiety in me. And it sounded batshit crazy, but even though Rook and I had just met, there was something about him that put me at ease. Like we’d known each other for far longer than this one night. Like he saw beyond the pretty dress and makeup to the real Asha hidden to all but those closest to me. A woman who spoke her mind, asked too many questions, and refused to play nice just to make someone feel bigger.
