Page 117 of Craved

I was getting to know Zoe, and she liked to be teased, even bossed around—in bed, that is. She was a strong, confident woman, but she got turned on by a little dominance, which was how I liked it, too. She was perfect. We were perfect together.

I removed my fingers from between her thighs and jerked the straps of the sexy little dress down her shoulders, forcing her to keep her arms close to her sides. Underneath, she wore a scrap of something filmy and black.

I growled lowly. It was a surprise. A good one. “Mm, I like it.”

I caressed her breasts through the material. Then I recalled something. “Philippe gave you these clothes, right?” When she nodded, I said, “Fuck that.”

Those days in the cell had left me in a dark, primitive mood. I wanted my woman—a hard, no-holds-bar fuck.

And I sure as hell didn’t want her wearing anything Philippe had provided her.

I took out the switchblade and released the blade with a snick.

Her eyes widened, but she held still as I sliced through the band holding the bra cups together. The catch in her breath told me she found it as hot as I did.

Her breasts were bared to me, the tips hard and dusky red. I set the knife on the nightstand and sucked one into my mouth. She closed her eyes and arched her back, wordlessly asking for more. I switched to the other nipple, giving it a few hard sucks as well.

When I glanced up, she was watching me, her honey-colored eyes heavy-lidded with arousal.

I took hold of her jaw and gave her a kiss. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t get enough of you.”

She smiled against my mouth.

I put my hand under her dress again. She rocked her hips up toward my fingers, seeking more pressure.

I lightened my touch. “Beg for it.”

She writhed beneath my hand. “You want to hear you’re good?”

I cupped her mons, stroked my finger into her panties. She was so wet. So ready.

“That’s a start.”

“You’re good. So damn good.”

“Beg.” I scraped my teeth over her nipple and she jerked with surprise—and got even wetter. “You know it makes you hot. I can feel it. Here.” I slid my finger into her sex. “And through our bond.”

She was panting now, her mouth soft, a little open. “I’m…not sure…if I like you…using that against me.”

“Goes both ways.” I gently bit the other nipple. “I know you feel me, too. And if you want me to stop, you can just say so. But you don’t want to, and we both know it. Now beg for it. Or I’ll tease you until sunrise.”

“Damn you.” Her head fell back. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

“Oh, I will. When I’m ready.”

Her eyes narrowed. I laughed and lifted her off my lap and set her on the bed.

She leaned back on her forearms, her long legs open and half off the bed, her pretty breasts bare above the tight black dress, her hair tumbling around her shoulders like dark silk. The opposite of the ladylike, put-together princess the world knew.

And I was the only one who’d ever see her like this.

I reached for the switchblade again.

She pouted up at me. “I like this dress.”

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