Page 96 of Playing Pretend

That filth on her lips will be my undoing.

I grab her waist and haul her over my shoulder, her squeal loud enough to wake the dead. I stalk along the drive, holding her legs tightly while she pleads for me to put her down, then continue inside to kick the front door shut behind us. “You’re going to regret not taking up the offer of food.”

“Why?” She pushes against my back, gaining leverage.

“Because you’re going to need all the energy you can get.” I march through the foyer, toward the kitchen. “In an hour, you’ll be begging for a snack.”

“An hour?”

“And that’s just the prelude. It’s going to be a long night.” I carry her down the hall, then slow as I approach my darkened bedroom.

I itch to turn on the light, but for Piper’s sake I leave everything in darkness, nothing but the glow of the moon seeping in from the open curtains.

I stop beside the bed to place her down in front of me, settling her with my hand on her hips.

She blinks up at me, all wide-eyed and beautiful.

God, she’s amazing. Innocent and inquisitive. Determined and divine.

If she understood the things I want to do to her, she wouldn’t be able to look me in the eye without blushing. Her face would be forever flamed. Her skin a profound shade of pink.

“What are you thinking?” she whispers.

“You don’t want to know.”

Her cheeks darken and she breaks eye contact to glance nervously around the shadowed room.

“Do you need a minute?” I keep my hands firm on her hips. Tight. No chance for her to flee.

“No. I just…”

“What is it?”

She turns back to me, her gaze lowered to my chest. “I like when you tell me what to do. I feel more confident that way.”

My cock jolts at the thought of dictating her pleasure. “Are you sure?”

She nods. “Does that bother you?”

“No.” I raise a hand to her chin, demanding she look at me. “It makes me fucking hard.”

She swallows and rakes her teeth over her lower lip.

“Take off your blouse.” I release her hips, our only contact visual as she straightens her shoulders then complies. Her eyes remain locked on mine with each released button before she carefully places her top on the bed. “Your jeans, too.”

She does as directed, lowering the zipper in silence, shucking the denim to kick the material across the carpet.

I wait until she’s settled. Until her chin is high and her shoulders strong before I look my fill. I take in the sight of her standing in nothing but white thin lace underwear, her breasts perky, her hips lush. “You’re beautiful.”

“You’ve seen me in a bikini before.”

I incline my head, reaching out, running my hands over her waist and along her stomach. I revel in her softness. The perfectly smooth skin. The goose bumps that awaken under my touch.

“I’m still dreaming about that number you wore at the resort.” I skate my palms higher, skimming the outer curves of her breasts as she shudders, trailing them up to her collarbone, then down her cleavage. “But I’ve had to rely on imagination when it comes to these.” I run my thumbs over her nipples, the darkened flesh only partially visible through the lace. “I want them in my mouth. Tell me that’s okay.”

She shakes her head, her voice breathy. “You don’t have to ask. I’ll let you know if I want you to stop.”

“You left that a little too late at Laguna Beach.”

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