Page 116 of Fragile Sanctuary

All the minuscule nerve endings in my body woke up at Anson’s words. “Can you now?”

A sly smile spread across his face. “You wanna play, Reckless?”

My skin began humming with the promise of what was to come, already knowing the pleasure Anson could bring. “Yes.”

He moved then, taking my hand and tugging me toward the bedroom. The moment we were inside, he shut the door behind us. It closed with a quiet snick, but the noise sounded more like a cannon in the silent room.

“You sure you want toplay?” Anson asked, grit and need coating his voice.

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Strip.” The single word was a command. The force behind it had a shiver skating over my skin, but there was nothing unpleasant about it.

I kicked off one flip-flop and then the other, stepping onto the lush carpet in my bedroom. My gaze dipped as I moved for the hem of my tank top, but Anson wasn’t having that.

“Eyes on me,” he ordered.

My focus shot to him. The blue in his eyes sparked and swirled, need blooming there. I didn’t look away, and my fingers hooked in the cotton. Tugging it up and over my head, I lost sight of Anson for the briefest moment. And then he was there again, eyes blazing.

I reached behind my back, fingers unfastening the clasp of my bra.

“Slowly,” Anson gritted out.

My pace eased, and I felt everything. The way my breathing quickened. The sensation of the lace skating across my skin. And maybe that was what Anson was after. For me to be in the here and now.

As my bra fell to the floor, Anson’s hand lifted. His thumb grazed his bottom lip as he stared at me, the sun streaming in. “Could look at you for years and still see something new every time.”

My pulse thrummed in my neck as he took one step toward me and then another.

“Like this little freckle.” He bent, his lips grazing the mark resting just below my collarbone.

My breath hitched.

Anson straightened, everything in his body tight, restrained. “Climb on the bed.”

I licked my lips. “I thought I was supposed to strip.” I was still wearing my shorts.

“Such sass,” Anson muttered. But then he moved. So fast I gasped. He grabbed hold of my shorts and underwear, yanking themdown. He stared up at me as the movements slowed, lifting one leg out and then the other. “Now, you don’t have to.”

I certainly didn’t.

Anson’s gaze didn’t waver. “Climb onto the bed.”

My heart hammered as I took one step back and then another. When I hit the edge of the mattress, I turned, climbing on just as he’d instructed.

An audible breath sounded behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and locked eyes with Anson. He stroked himself over his jeans. “That ass. Gonna kill me.”

Heat rose to my cheeks—not embarrassment, but pleasure.

“Lay on your back. Arms above your head,” Anson gritted out.

A flicker of nervousness shot through me, but I obeyed. Nestling into the pillows, I lifted my arms.

“Grab the headboard.” Anson’s voice was more growl than anything else, the sound sending a fresh wave of shivers coursing through me. My fingers curled around the wrought iron bars.

Anson took a step forward, unbuckling his belt. He tore the leather from the loops on his jeans in one fluid movement, and my jaw went slack. He kicked off one boot and then the other, then climbed onto the bed.

There was something about being completely naked while Anson hovered over me, still fully clothed. It heightened everything in my body. The feel of the breeze through the open window. The way the soft cotton of his shirt brushed my nipples.

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