Page 9 of Witch Untold
I met his smile with a wink and headed out of the room in search of Tor.
* * *
The soundof running water drew me to the bathroom. The door was open, and Tor was visible, crouched by the tub and squeezing bubble bath into it. He’d stripped off his tee, and muscles rippled beneath the taut skin of his torso with every movement. The tub was pretty big, but his powerful frame made it look small. My gaze lingered on his traps and lats, marveling in the epic composition that made him a force to be reckoned with.
Mine.
The word sliced across my mind, stealing my breath and leaving my chest tight.
“Are you going to stand there gawping or are you going to come in here and take your clothes off.” His tone was gruff, verging on the edge of anger.
A thrill shot through me. I was a twisted bitch.
“Let me rephrase that.” He looked up and locked gazes with me, sending another thrill through me, this time straight to the apex of my thighs. “Get over here and strip.”
If anyone else had used that demanding tone with me, I’d have told them to go fuck themselves, but when Tor did it, my body reacted like a wanton hussy. Heat bloomed low in my belly and my nipples tightened to eager peaks. I stepped into the bathroom and kicked the door shut before reaching for the hem of my shirt.
Eager much?
Yep, yep, yep.
“Stop,” Tor ordered. “Slowly. Peel it off slow.” There was a growl to his words and my tummy trembled.
My breath hitched and then quickened as I lifted the tee up inch by inch, peeling it up until my breasts, encased in a half-cup lacy bra, were exposed. Steamy air kissed my skin as I tugged it off and dropped it on the tiles.
Tor watched me, his expression impassive except for his steel-gray eyes burning a path across my exposed flesh.
“Leggings too,” he ordered.
I hooked my thumbs into the waistband and peeled them down my hips.
“Stop.”
I froze, chest heaving.
“Turn around before you peel them down.”
Oh, yes, I knew what he wanted. I obliged, bending over as I pushed the leggings down to my calves, presenting my ass encased in thin cotton panties for his inspection.
A low growl vibrated the air and my clit throbbed in response.
I kicked off the leggings and turned to him. He wasn’t hiding his desire now; it beat off him, ravenous and urgent. He stood and unbuttoned his jeans before shucking them off, leaving him in skin-tight boxers that hugged his epic arousal.
He sat on the lip of the tub, legs spread, and beckoned me closer. “I want to feel you, Cora. I want to feel your slick pussy on my cock. Can you do that?”
My stomach flipped hard at his words and the pulse between my thighs went nuts. He peeled down his boxers, freeing his erection, and my mouth went dry.
Oh, fuck. This was bad. So fucking bad. And dangerous. Let’s not forget dangerous, but my clit was doing a happy dance and there was no ignoring that wanton bitch when she got going.
I pushed down my panties and kicked them off before gripping his powerful shoulders, reveling in the sensation of unyielding velvet beneath my fingers as I straddled him, leaving my core inches from his arousal. Heat kissed my intimate place, leaving me wet and clenching in anticipation of what I couldn’t have, shouldn’t have. But we were doing this, this dangerous thing, this almost taste.
His hands slid up my thighs and stopped at my hips, fingers digging in.
I met his gaze, a question in my eyes.
“Slowly,” he ordered. “Just a taste, Cora. I’ve got you. I’ve got this. Trust me.”
Fuck, we were really about to play with fire, and if it was just on me, I’d be leaping off him like he was a hot coal, but this was Tor—controlled, dominant Tor—and I trusted him. He’d keep us in check.
