Page 32 of Home in the Country
“No, Princess, I didn’t take yours. You took mine.” Her mouth is hanging wide open, and I think of a few things she could do with that mouth. Soft pink lips would feel incredible wrapped around my cock right about now, and damn if I don’t need to ease the tension coursing through my veins.
“I—” I don’t let her finish her thought because it’s not up for discussion. Instead, I round the table and pull out a chair for her.
“Either sit or get out.”
Her resolve is almost admirable.
Almost.
Sitting gingerly, she looks up at me through mascara-covered lashes. My heart thunders in my chest because this woman is still the only one who makes me feel like I can finally breathe when she’s near me.
“Hook your ankles under the rungs of the chair.” Her eyes dilate, but she does as she’s told. Her legs are now forced open, as I slide the chair into the spot at the head of the table. Her dress is hiked farther up her thighs, and if I wanted to look, I could see her glistening center…and I will.
But not yet.
Dropping into the chair beside her, I turn my body to face her as I casually plate our dinner. Her chest is practically heaving as she watches me.
“How have you been, Fallon?” Letting one callused hand slide over the exposed skin of her thigh, I dip my thumb under the hem and draw small circles.
She swallows. Twice.
Then she picks up her fork with a shaky hand and skewers a piece of zucchini.
“It’s been hard being away from here. I’m happy Briggs will have a childhood like I had.”
I nod as I listen, eating small bites without removing my hand from her leg. My fingers tease higher without touching where she needs me the most. She’s so responsive even if she’s trying not to be.
“Are your parents happy to have their grandson here now?”
“They are. We’re all just trying to decompress from the chaos these last few months have been.”
My hand squeezes when she says “decompress,” and she sucks in a shaky breath.
“Otto, I’m sorry—”
Dropping my fork, I push my seat back at the same time I haul hers in front of me. Her hands grip the wood on either side of her ass as she tries to steady herself.
“No,” I growl with both hands now gripping her creamy white flesh.
“No?” It’s a breathy whisper on parted lips. She has no idea what she did to me—hell,Ididn’t know what she did to me until this exact moment. Anger and lust are warring inside me, and I’m not sure which emotion is going to win.
“No. You don’t want to get to know me, Fallon. You want a fuck buddy. I’ll give that to you, but you don’t get to throw around apologies or feel guilty about what you did to me when you left.” She swallows whatever she was about to say. “Last chance, Princess. You staying or leaving again?”
“Staying.”
Her gaze is steady on mine as I flick open the buttons on her dress. Her breasts spill over the lacy cups of her white lace bra, and my mouth waters. She might have dressed innocently enough, but I know she’s far from it if the other night is any indication.
My fingers find the clasp nestled between her tits, so I pop that open too.
“Don’t move your hands. Understood?”
She nods.
“I need words, Fallon,” I murmur as I dip my head and pull one delicious nipple into my mouth.
She gasps, “Yes.”
I suck and lick and nibble on her as my hands slide up as far as they can without touching her slick pussy. My thumbs draw intentional circles, pressing gently as I go. Her body is vibrating with her need for release, but I want to hear it.
