Page 45 of Release Me
‘We shouldn’t,’ I pant, but I’m not convincing either of us.
‘We’re not.Iam. Let me give you this. You don’t know how many times I’ve fantasised about it.’ His fingers still, but his mouth moves to my neck, trailing tiny kisses in its wake.
‘You sure know how to woo a woman, Beckett.’ My head rolls back to give him better access.
‘This isn’t wooing, sweetheart, but given half the chance, I would woo you.’ He works his way back up again, his lips skimming over my jawline before brushing over my mouth again. He’s so tender. Like he’s worried about terrifying me. The only thing I’m terrified of right now is that he stops.
‘You know, I deliberately dressed down for your visit.’ I motion to my outfit. ‘I purposely didn’t go for sexy.’
A low, deep laugh rumbles from his chest. ‘You ooze sexy, Rebekka Remington. It doesn’t matter what you wear. When you have it, you have it. And you fucking have it—and thensome.’ His finger slips inside my panties, and my legs buckle. ‘Now, about that present…’
Fuck.’ I grip the island harder.
‘No, baby, we’re not going to do that. Unless you count with my fingers.’
‘You are so bad.’ My eyes veer towards the cameras positioned in the corners of each room. They’re off. They’ve been off since Anthony announced he was working over Christmas and jumped on his private jet to Dubai. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of watching me spend Christmas Day alone. How fucking glad am I for that decision.
‘Maybe, but I’m going to make you feelsogood.’ His finger slides through my slickness, and the moan that bursts from my mouth is positively animalistic. ‘At least three times.’
‘Why?’ No one ever wanted to get me off before, not really. When Anthony did bother having sex with me, he was a selfish lover. The boyfriend I had before that wasn’t selfish, but he was clumsy. If I happened to get off during his fumbling, it was a bonus.
‘Because the satisfaction of feeling you shatter on my fingers and hear you scream my name is the best fucking gift of all.’ His finger sinks into my centre, and I’m done for. There’s no going back. Hell, from the second he walked in here, this was inevitable. ‘You’re so fucking wet, baby.’
‘You tend to have that effect on me.’
His eyes flare again. ‘Are you always this wet for me?’
‘I was at your parents’ ball.’
‘Fuck, I should have dragged you up to my old bedroom there and then.’ He works me so good with his fingers, pumping them inside of me so deliciously slowly before sliding them out and over my clit, then back in again. The man is gifted. ‘I thought about it. Thought about stealing you away with me that night, pulling that silk dress up around your waist and seeing the perfection beneath. You have noidea how long I’ve wanted to touch you. To see you.’ His lips catch mine again. His tongue sliding against mine, matching the rhythm of his fingers.
I’m not going to last, but I don’t want this to be over. I tear my mouth from his. ‘So see me then. Take these shorts off. Iwantyou to see me.’
His fingers slow then still, his eyes never leaving mine. I swallow as he reaches for the waistband of my shorts and tugs them down over my thighs. He takes a step back as they slide to the floor, hungry eyes drinking in my legs and the white lace between them. I sidestep, kick off the shorts, and place a finger at my hip bone, hooking it inside my lingerie. ‘What about these? Do you want these off too?’
‘And I thought I was the one giving the gifts today.’ He blows out a long, low breath. ‘Of course I want them off. And the sweatshirt while you’re at it.’
‘We won’t be able to take it back,’ I whisper.
‘I never fucking want to.’ He shakes his head, rubbing his fingers over the stubble dotting his chin.
‘Just this once, okay?’
I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs. ‘Just today,’ he rephrases, strutting forward. He reaches for the hem of my sweatshirt and gently pushes it up and over my head, exhaling slowly, like he’s savouring every second.
‘Fuck. Me.’ He whistles.
‘Careful what you wish for, remember,’ I place my arms up and allow him to tug it over them, watching as he tosses it to the floor. ‘It’s Christmas. Wishes tend to come true this time of year.’
‘That one won’t. Not today. I won’t let it.’ His nostrils flare. ‘But never say never.’ His hands land on my waist, and he hoists me up until my backside is resting on the cold countertop.
‘His greedy eyes peruse my skin, lingering on the onlyitem of clothing left on my body—my bra. I reach round and unhook it, empowered by the weight of his want. I slip the straps down my shoulders, revelling in his undivided attention.
‘Lose it,’ he growls.
‘Yes, sir,’ I make a salute sign and send the lace flying across the kitchen in the process.
‘Fucking hell, Rebekka.’ He pushes between my legs, parting my thighs with his hips as his eyes roam over every inch of me. ‘I knew you were stunning, but fuck, I wasn’t ready for the sheer level of perfection.’
