Page 57 of Take Me Under

Summoning all the willpower that I could manage, I tore my mouth away from hers. Swallowing hard, I studied her face. Shewas flushed, her hair in disarray from my hands, and she was panting. As delicious as she looked in this state, I tamped down my desire so I could focus on finesse.

“After you,” I said, my voice steady.

Her long lashes dropped before lifting to boldly meet my stare. Then she nodded and stepped out. I followed, the sound of the elevator doors closing behind us, the final punctuation mark on a kiss unlike any other I’d ever had before. When I laced my fingers through hers, she glanced up at me. I watched as her demeanor shifted, her eyes glimmering with a barrage of conflicting emotions—desire, longing, apprehension.

When I tugged her hand, bringing her further into the penthouse, she didn’t resist. She wanted this, but there was so much I needed her to give.

I wanted her to beg.

I wanted her hands tied behind her back as I plunged my cock into her mouth. I pictured her ass high in the air, and I imagined what she’d feel like when I took her from behind. I wanted to feel her nails raking across my back, and I wanted her screams.

But most importantly, I wanted her surrender.

I just wasn’t sure if that was something Serena was capable of.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Serena

“Fuck, how I want you. Here. Now.”

Anton’s words hung in the air like a loaded gun pointed directly at my heart before ricocheting through my body. I repeated them in my head as he led me to his bedroom, the ache between my legs nearly unbearable.

When we reached the primary suite, he reached for the switch on the wall. After he adjusted the dimmer, a romantic glow flooded the space, casting long shadows over the sleek lines of his bedroom furniture. He unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling them back just enough to reveal his muscular forearms.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. Then, he left the room.

I stood there, unsure what I should do, as I listened to the faint clink of glass from down the hall. A moment later, I heard the pop of a cork. When he returned, he was holding a tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other. Hehanded me the wine, his fingers grazing mine just long enough to send a curl of heat through me.

He took a slow, deliberate sip before setting his glass on the nightstand. I watched as he crossed the room to the console table and pressed a button. Soft music filled the air, haunting and cinematic. It unfolded like a slow-burning storm with a ghostly piano melody.

Each note lingered in the air like a whispered secret as Anton returned to me. I caught the scent of sweet, oaky whiskey on his breath. He stepped closer, his gaze dark with intent, making him look dangerously sexy. I exhaled slowly, feeling the sexual tension stretch tighter than ever.

This was it—the point of no return.

My mind spun with possibilities, trying to decide if I wanted out of this impossible situation. I was torn between giving in to this burning desire to finally be with him and holding onto my principles. Whichever path I chose, I would have to sacrifice something. The thought made my heart race and my cheeks flush with anxiety. But as I looked into Anton's intense gaze, I couldn't deny that I wanted tonight to happen.

I craved him. Desperately. And I couldn’t recall a time in my life when I needed anything more.

Anton shifted to sit on the bed, pulling me down beside him and looping my legs over his lap. Then he kissed me—lightly at first, but it was a graze that drove me completely wild. I whimpered against his lips, and he seemed to take that as encouragement. Within mere seconds, the kiss went from seductive to feverish. He was passionately demanding, taking what he needed.

I was acutely aware of the music as it progressed. The percussion grew heavier, a heartbeat-like rhythm that pulsed beneath the melody, creating a sense of urgency that matched our heated kiss. I gave willingly, allowing our tongues to dance as his hands moved possessively up and down my back. Theyprogressed over my ribs and to my waist, skimming the sides of my breasts on the way down. I shivered at the contact, the fervent ache between my legs building to impossible heights.

Shifting my position, I raised my skirt so I could straddle his hips. He gripped my hair at the roots, the pull a sweet ache as he tugged my head back. He nipped his way across the line of my jaw, his hot breath a whisper on my neck before moving down to my cleavage.

He pulled down a strap of my black satin tank with one hand, while his other ran up my leg and under my skirt. He massaged my thigh, shoving my skirt further up as he went, brushing past the strap of the lace thong at my hip and around to cup my nearly bare behind. He held me firmly, pulling my tank down to expose a red lace-covered nipple.

“I like you in lace,” he murmured. “But I think I’ll like you without it even better.”

Using one finger, he pushed down the cup of my bra until my breast was bare. Sliding my other strap down, he repeated the process until my chest was completely exposed. My nipples pebbled from the appreciative way he gazed at them. A moan escaped me as he leaned in to kiss the area around one tightened peak.

He kneaded my breasts, pinching the erect nipples between his thumb and forefinger before capturing one with his teeth. I hissed at the same time he slid a finger under my panties. The throbbing between my spread thighs intensified, and I ached to be satisfied.

“Anton, I need you to touch me.”

“I will, princess. I’ve been fantasizing about seeing you spread out before me for too long. I want to look at you—all of you. Then I’ll touch you. Taste you. Claim you,” he said, punctuating each statement with a kiss.

“Yes.” The word came out as an exhale as my head lolledback. He could do whatever he wanted to me. I was already completely lost to this man.

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