Page 70 of Painted Scars
That’s all I need. “Throw in the Lakehouse ravaging and you’ve got a deal. Put our time together to good use.” I wink.
His head shakes again. “I’ll throw you on my bike and spank you for being a brat.”
My smile explodes like he’s thrown party streamers. “Yes, Daddy.”
His fingers skim my jaw, gentle as a threat. “You sure you’re ready for what this means, Glitter Bomb?”
I lick my lips to test him. “Depends. Are you bringing the rope and handcuffs?”
He doesn’t answer, just drags my chair closer so that my knees are between his, lifts my hands and presses them over my eyes. A soft rustle tips me off that he withdraws from his helmet. His kiss lands like a pirate searching for a long-lost treasure. Hell, I don’t need a reply, because it’s game on.
CHAPTER 19 - AUGUST
The air hums between us, thick with something heavier than silence. I feel it in my stomach, my throat, and the pulse between my legs. My fingers flex with the debate of doing something reckless or noble. Or both.
“I should clean up,” I whisper, even though I don’t want to when she’s this close, so warm and inviting.
“Leave it.” The husky note in Kate’s voice is all the permission I need. “Are you staying?”
“Unless you tell me to go,” I say.
“I want you to stay.” Her eyes stay closed as she arms wrap around my neck, and her mouth traces mine.
I crush the waistband of her onesie. “Are you sure after last night? I need to hear you say it.”
“I’m not fogged up or confused.” She drags a finger over my face, tracing my cheekbone. “I want to feel safe again, and you help me with that.”
I climb to my feet, push my helmet down, and lift her from hers. “Take me to your room, Glitter Bomb. I’m going to reward my good little girl.”
She shivers at my request and hesitates as if deciding if this is the danger to which she consents. This time, she’s the one who leads me into the dark, down the hall, up the stairs, and into her room, PJ3 bounding after us.
Fairy lights illuminate her satin skin. I caress her once with my palm before stepping back into her closet.
I hesitate at the door, my hand hovering over the robe tie when it has the power to unravel more than silk. Getting this close, letting her in like this, is a risk I can’t afford with the Romans watching and moving in. I glance over my shoulder, and she waits for me, eyes soft, radiating safety, hope, and surrender. I don’t know if I deserve it, but fuck, do I need it. I drag the silk and return to her, letting it slide slow and deliberate around my knuckles, giving her one last chance to back out if she wants to.
Her eyes darken to a forest shadow, and the slow, hungry pass of her tongue over her lips tells me exactly where she wants this to head.
Good. That makes two of us.
“Come here and be a good girl.” My voice is rougher than dry whisky.
Kate saunters, hips swaying, marking her territory. Her nipples press tautly against the fluffy material of her pajamas, begging to be tasted. Tamed with my teeth. Worshipped with my tongue.
I unravel the tie, a reward for her obedience, even though I’m one order away from making her beg. Her wide hips come to a halt in front of me.
“I’ve been a good boy,” I bait her. “Orange. A little red. Maybe some black.”
Her eyes glow as I knew they would.
“And I want you to show me how good I’ve been.” I’m using her language, her book fantasy, because I want her empoweredand owning this when she was scared on our first encounter. Even when I’m in complete control.
Daring little thing presses her stiff peaks into my chest and rubs. “I can’t decide if that’s good or bad.”
I don’t let her decide and press a finger to her lips to shut her sass down before it tempts me off course. I want her mouth for anything but speaking.
Her breath catches when I blindfold her, tighter this time, leaving no gaps or escape. I brush her temple, and she’s so damn responsive, breathless and trembling with need, that it wrecks me.
A loan groan rumbles in my chest. “Good fucking girl.”
