Page 109 of Bottle Shock
Her eyes slowly trace the length of me, leaving behind a heated trail. Across my collarbone, between my pecks, over the ridges on my abdomen, before stopping at the towel I have knotted around my waist. The pink tip of her tongue pokes out, swiping between her plush lips.
“You’re not sleeping on the floor.” Her brow lifts as a smirk settles on her face. “In fact, I think you should go lie down now. Get comfortable.”
I do as she says, too mystified by her little commanding tone. I think I’d do just about anything this woman says and then I’d thank her for it afterward.
As I start to get situated, she comes up to me and slowly unties her robe, letting it fall to the floor, revealing a green lace bra that does nothing to hide her nipples with matching bottoms that are either underwear made to look like shorts or they’re incredibly tiny shorts. Either way they’re sexy as hell, drawing attention to her milky skin as it contrasts with the deep forest green of the material.
A fucking dream.
My mouth parts, and I feel like one of those cartoon characters whose eyes bug out of their head and turn into hearts.
“I don’t exactly own lingerie so this is as close as I could get,” she says shyly. Like it’s not enough. Like I’m not losing my mind over her right now.
I softly skim my thumb down her jaw and lift her chin, forcing her eyes to connect with mine. “You’re the sexiestwoman I’ve ever seen.” I huff out a laugh. “I don’t think you understand what a wreck I’ve been over you. My dick is in a near constant state of pain. I think about you all the time, I always want you. You could wear granny panties and some hideous bra and I’d still want you just as badly.”
She giggles, a sound so free and beautiful. “That bad, huh?”
“It’s torture, really.”
She drags her nails down my stomach. Light enough to not hurt, but hard enough to leave a mark, and then gently pushes me back on the bed. “Then why were you trying to sleep on the floor? I thought we had plans…for tonight?”
I hate the hesitation in her voice. I did that. I put it there.
“I’m only trying to be respectful. But don’t doubt for one second that I don’t want you.”
A smile lifts to her lips, and she leans down hovering over me, her breath dusting my ear as she tugs on my towel. “I want you to disrespect me. I’m literally begging for it. Give me your worst, Ledger.”
Maybe it’s her words in that delicate pretty voice of hers, or the sinful green lace barely covering her, or it’s being here, away from reality, away from my responsibilities, but something in me snaps, releasing a feral out of control need for her. I want to punish her for unknowingly torturing me for years. For being so goddamn irresistible. For teasing me. For every fucking perfect inch of her simply existing.
“Stand by the window, I want to see that tight little body in the moonlight.”
She goes immediately, following my directions without hesitation.
The moonlight drapes over her like something holy—breasts rising in a slow, tempting rhythm with every breath, thighs open just enough to show me the bare heat waiting for me. It’s obscene how beautiful she is.
“Now get on your knees.”
Her brow raises in question, but she does it anyway, sinking down slow. The movement is graceful, almost reverent, like she loves doing what I say.
I love how quickly she responds to me, how she trusts me.
Wrapping a hand around my cock, the ache sharp, I give it a couple slow pumps, just enough to take the edge off. Scottie’s mouth drops open in a quiet, involuntary gasp—eyes glued to my hand.
“You want this?”
She nods eagerly, the tip of pink tongue poking out as she wets her lips, like she’s salivating for it, like she’s desperate for my cock. For me.
“Crawl for it.”
For a second she stills. Like she’s in disbelief at my command.
Then she moves.
Hands to the floor.
Knees sliding forward on the cool wood.
Back arched, head lifted, eyes on exactly what she wants.
