Page 180 of Fixation
I’m melting when he tilts his head, looking at me like a predator.
The need to take him out and come on his cock is palpable. Painful.
“Name your price.”
“I’ll say it, and you won’t deny me a single orgasm for a week, no matter what.”
It takes him a moment to consider that. “Okay. As long as this one doesn’t count.”
“Why?”
“Because.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I’m sensitive everywhere, shuddering at his touch. “I get off on your pain, that’s why.”
That’s as far as my monster is willing to give me.
Truthfully, it isn’t a bad compromise. Maybe it’s not so terrible, letting Anderson take over. I don’t have to be the powerful decision-maker when he’s here.
“Deal.”
“Deal.” He cups my cheeks, the anticipation spilling out of him.
“I love you, Anderson. I. Love. You.”
A million heartbeats pass between us. His eyes are the most expressive they’ve ever been. His emotions are alive and vibrant.
“Again.” He leans in, kissing me.
I bite his lip, then tease him further by placing my hands on his neck and saying, “I hate that I love you.”
“Liar.” He kisses me over and over, his tongue insistent in my mouth. “Or, you know what?” More kissing. More fighting. “Don’t give a fuck. Hate it or don’t. You love me. And I love you too. God, I love you.”
“Fuck me.” I grind my hips on his lap. My attempt is a miserable one. I’m weak for him. Weak for this orgasm he won’t let me have. “Anderson.”
“When I come back from work.” Even as I huff in protest, I’m being placed on the couch. Anderson nods to himself, adjusting his erection that pushes against his scrubs. “Be a good girl, Harper. Be good. Or I’ll deal with you when I return.”
My heart pangs. Something about his voice, the way he looks at me.
There’s a new emotion there.
Pain.
He’s hurting. I don’t understand why. He doesn’t seem like he’s about to tell me.
I have no other choice but to obey.
“Okay,” I whisper, hiding the fact that I might not be as good as he hoped today.
I have plans. An interview to go to. And since it’s been forever since I dressed up, I miss my heels. Heels don’t go well with a recovering ankle.
My doctor would disapprove.
So I don’t tell him any of that.
He stares at me. Groans. Hauls me off the couch and strides up. I can tell where he’s taking me just from the tortured look on his face.
“You’re going tonotfuck me in the shower?” I gape at him.
“Trust me.” His jaw tics as he stares ahead. “I hate the thought just the same, if not worse. But I’ve only got thirty minutes before I have to leave, and I’d rather spend themnotfucking you in the shower than being there by myself.”
