Page 54 of Black Ties and White Lies

Beck’s tongue peeks out to wet his lips, and I applaud myself for how long I fought the undeniable chemistry between us.

I gave denying him a good try. I stuck to my guns for longer than I’d expected to. But at the end of the day, I’m tired of having wet dreams about my boss. My future fake fiancé. My ex’s older brother. I’m ready for him to make good on every dirty threat he’s ever made.

I’m ready for Beckham Sinclair to fuck me. I want to know what it feels like for him to bury himself inside me. I’m desperate to feel all of him, to know nothing but him filling me as deep as I can take him.

His thumb runs over the spot he just licked. I’d half expected him to fly across the room and have me bent over already once he saw me naked. At the very least, I’d expected him to kiss me.

The growing erection in his boxers is proof of how bad he wants me, he’s just not acting on it yet.

A low growl erupts from deep in his chest. “I meant every fucking word when I told you you’d have to beg for me to fuck you.”

“Tell me how to beg and I’ll do it,” I answer immediately.

He smirks in appreciation, running his palm over his cock. “Oh I will, don’t worry about that.” He takes a step closer to me.

Out of habit, I cover the intimate parts of me with my hands. It’s not that I don’t want this. I had time to think about it in the shower. I’d stripped out of my clothes in there and left fully knowing what I wanted. It’s what I’ve wanted from his first threat in my old office.

His hand is warm against the tender skin at my back as he pulls my body against his. “Don’t cover yourself in front of me,” he demands. “I’ve waited far too long to see every bare inch of you for you to shield it from me.”

I swallow, arching my back to look up at him. “I want you Beck,” I admit, all anger at him dissipating by the lust in his eyes. “You’re right, I’ve wanted you from the beginning of this agreement. I’m just scared that with you, it’ll be different.”

His fingertips are punishing as he digs them into the skin at my hips. “It better fucking be,” he growls, pulling my body into his and crashing his lips against mine.

God, I forgot how good he kissed. Even the stroke of his tongue against mine has my body hot with need. You’d never know the two of us were on the brink of hypothermia an hour ago. Heat now envelops the space around us. His knuckles brush up against the side of my ribcage as his hand travels up my body.

Just as he’s circling the darker skin of my nipple, he pulls his hands away. His grin is cocky as he bites his lip.

“Lay down on the bed.”

I freeze, confused by the demand. “What happened to me begging?”

He lifts me by the hips, once again carrying me like I weigh nothing. He throws me down on the bed, my body bouncing against the soft mattress filled with rose petals.

Beck fits his body between my legs, looking at me like a man who’s been starved. Maybe Ihavebeen starving him. It’s been fun—and hot as hell—teasing him for this long. It’s morbid of me to admit, but I liked the cat and mouse game we’d been playing.

Something tells me everything he’s about to do to me will be much more fun.

He crawls onto the bed himself, his body looming over mine. He kisses around my nipple, licking and sucking the tender skin around my peaked bud but not putting his mouth on the part of my breast that wants him most.

Teasing me, and enjoying it by the mischief in his eyes, he repeats the same movements on my other breast. My back arches when he starts to kiss down my stomach, his fingertips light as they also rake down my body.

His hot palms hit the inside of my thighs, pushing them open so he can get a perfect view of the wetness between my legs.

“Trust me, Violet, I always keep good on my promises. I’m going to make you beg so hard for me to fuck you. But first…”

His finger brushes against my swollen clit. “First?” I moan.

“First, be a good girl and keep your legs spread open for me. I need a fucking taste of you.”

He seals his mouth against me, and I learn somehow he’s even better at licking my pussy than he is at kissing me.

My fingertips fist the comforter, needing something to hold onto as he ravishes me. He proves that hehadbeen starved. I’d deprived him of what he’d wanted—me—and he’s going to make me regret ever making him wait.

I loathe myself for ever denying myself of the feel of his tongue working against me.

“This pretty little pussy of yours is dripping wet with need for me.” He sticks a finger in, followed by another. He spreads them, stretching me in the most delicious of ways.

“You’re so tight.” He twists his fingers in an effort to stretch me.

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