Page 122 of Not That Impossible

“Then let me have it!” I said, pulling back. “Give it to me.”

His eyes were dark and his face was tense. “Not yet.”

That, I wasn’t expecting.

He gave a short laugh. “Are you pouting?” He brushed a fingertip over my mouth. “Yeah, you’re pouting. God, I love your mouth.” He kissed me again, and then pushed me off his lap.

He gave it a shot, anyway.

“You cannot move me unless I want to be moved,” I told him. “I thought we’d established that? And, Liam? I do not want to be moved.”

“You want a tussle?” he said.

“And an orgasm.”

“I want to give you an orgasm. I want to give you many, many orgasms. Sometimes, I’ll give you one after the other until you’re sobbing, before you’ve even recovered from the last, when you don’t think you can handle any more. But you will. I’ll use my hand. My mouth.” His lips curled in a wicked smile. “My cock. Looking at the state of you right now?” He scanned me. “Maybe one day I’ll try talking you into one. Hold you down, and tell you all the things I’ve imagined doing to you.”

“That—”

“But not today. And not right now.”

“Not to beg or anything, but—”

“Jasper,” he said. “I don’t want it fast and hard on my sofa when I have to be in bed in an hour because I need to be up early tomorrow for work.”

“Oh.”

"You know how I like it?”

“Well, you’re bossy.”

“I am,” he said. “Which is a good thing, as you seem to enjoy being bossed around.”

I scoffed, and convinced absolutely no one.

“I like it slow. Deep. Hard. I want to spoil you.” He laughed. “Yeah. There are those big round eyes. That’s what I want.” His hands were possessively stroking over my back, gripping my waist, cupping my butt. “I want you under me, spread out for me, looking up at me. Just. Like. That.” He punctuated it with small, nipping kisses. “You deserve my attention. My full, unwavering, devoted attention. And you’re going to get it.”

Oh my god, I wanted that so much.

He sat back and looked at me.

I couldn’t come up with a response.

Smiling, more than a little pleased with himself, Liam rubbed a soothing hand over my back.

I stuffed my hand in my sweatpants pocket and whipped out my phone. I pulled up my calendar app, turned the phone to face him, and said, “I’m free whenever.” I’d call in sick if I had to. “Pick a day. Any day.”

He took the phone from me. “Good grief you need a new phone.” He angled it one way than the other, squinting.

“I keep dropping them.”

“I’ll buy you one of those cases,” he said distractedly, typing away quickly. “Then you can throw it around as much as you like.”

“I don’t do it on purpose.”

“I’m sure you don’t. Here you go. Does that work for you?”

I gave him a curious look as he handed the phone over. The heat was still in his eyes, as was the flush on his cheeks, but I caught a hint of…not vulnerability, not from Liam. Uncertainty?

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