Page 66 of Whiskey Throttle
Show-off.
He doesn’t gloat, just slowly turns to me and says, “Don’t lose or you’ll get rug burn on your knees.”
My pulse kicks up. Every nerve buzzes. The vision of being on my knees, his blue eyes greedily taking in every inch of cock down my throat, has my core pulsing with want. I’d love to get him off, watch him squirm as I edge him until he can’t take it any longer. With that new challenge forming more clearly in my mind, I raise my bow.
“You got this. Don’t think. Just feel.”
I breathe, aim and pull. Pause for a second and let go.
Thud.
Second ring.
Intentionally losing. He winces, then smiles like it physically pains him to be right.
“Close. At least you tried.”
“Ugh,” I sigh, slumping a little. “Fine. You win.”
He steps into me, crowding my space, his hand curling around my hip.
“I believe the agreement was . . .” He dips his mouth to my ear, voice thick with promise. “On your knees. Just my necklace.”
I glance down at the leather resting between my breasts. A shiver courses through me.
“But you know,” he adds, backing up just enough to look me in the eye. “I’ll settle for you begging me to make you come.”
I lift a brow.
“Who says I’d beg?”
He grins, but the smolder in his eyes tells how serious he is.
“Let’s find out.”
CHAPTER 17
HOLLISTER
I lick my lips in preparation for where they’re going next. She doesn’t retreat. Not even a step, but her lips part a fraction. Her hands clench the bow tighter, unsure where to place it. I decide for her, taking it out of her hand and tossing it near mine.
Even though my mouth wants to be everywhere all at once, she needs to be naked first. Since she’s not taking action to resolve the situation, I will. I reach for the hem of her sundress, fingertips brushing her smooth thighs as I slide the fabric up her body and over her head. It lands in the pile of bows on the floor.
She gasps when I grip the backs of her thighs and lift her, setting her on the padded bench lining the archery stall. I love that she’s petite enough that I can throw her around if I want. And she’d probably let me.
“I want to hear you beg for my cock. Beg to be fucked hard.” My mouth brushes against hers, not kissing yet, just grazing. “But first, I want to taste how desperate you were to win.”
She hands grip my shoulders, but her legs part just enough to invite me closer. Her delicate pink lace panties are ripped from her body with such quickness that she gasps.
“Hollister, those were expensive.”
Fuck if I care.
I’ll take her lingerie shopping today. Buy her all the things I want her to wear. More of my choices on her, just like the necklace that settles between her perfect breasts. The dusty rose nipples point at me, inviting and teasing at the same time. They will have to wait. I’m after her pink pussy with a dark strip above it leading to her honey pot.
“I’ll get you more.”
Instead of her on her knees, I am. My hands grip her ankles, slipping her sandals to the floor. With her only in my necklace, I grip her ass cheeks and pull her body to the edge of the bench.
