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Liss unbuckled her jeans as she kicked off her boots, letting them drop over the edge of the bed onto the floor. Lifting her hips, she slid her jeans off. Even in the dim light of my room, the bruises that dotted her skin were clearly visible.
Bracing my good arm next to her head, I leaned over Liss. White-hot pain seared through my shoulder as I hooked two fingers into the waistband of her thin white cotton panties.
“Say the word and I’ll stop. Understood?”
Liss nodded, biting her lower lip. But her gaze was locked on my hand. My knuckles bumped her hip bone. She squirmed, eager, impatient.
“I need to hear you, Liss.”
She dragged her gaze up to meet mine. Then she brought her hand to my shoulder, fingers tracing the swatch of gauze taped there.
“I understand.”
Satisfied with that answer, I stripped her panties off, tugging them down her legs. Liss kept her knees locked together, but she slipped a hand between her thighs. She watched me, daring me to tell her what to do.
I smoothed my hand up her calf and pressed her thighs open. Her fingers glistened, sticky, teasing at her clit. I raised an eyebrow.
“Did I give you permission to touch yourself?”
A wicked little smile flickered at the corner of Liss’s mouth. Oh, she loved this. Pushing me, testing me. Seeing what she could get away with.
“You were taking too long.”
I curled my fingers around her wrist and brought her hand to my mouth, sucking her fingers clean. The salty-sweet taste of her made my cock surge against the zipper of my jeans. I pulled her fingers out with a wet pop.
“This is your one and only warning,” I said. “If you call me grandpa in bed, we’re done. That’s it. Instant mood killer.”
“Yes, sir,” Liss said softly. “Is that better?”
I cradled her cheek in my palm, brushing my thumb over her lips. She pretended to deliver a playful bite, even though there was no pressure to it.
“That smart mouth is going to get you in trouble one day,” I said.
Liss grinned. My heart swooped in my chest. I hooked my hand behind her knee and tugged her closer. She squeaked in surprise. Her sweater rucked up around her middle, exposing that god-awful bruise. I placed my palm over it, stroking her skin lightly with my thumb.
“Get rid of your clothes,” I said. “If you want to play with something, toy with your nipples. No touching your clit until I tell you to.”
She smirked.
“Aren’t you supposed to say pretty please?”
I trailed my hand from her bruise down to her pussy, tracing the stiff hood of her clit. Liss gasped and pushed her hips up into my touch. I pulled away.
“Bastard,” she groaned.
I chuckled.
“I can edge you all night if that’s what it takes to wear down that bratty attitude, sweetheart.”
She jutted her chin out.
“Or you could just fuck me already.”
“Patience,” I replied. “We’ll get there eventually. Now, strip.”
She hurried to get her sweater off, followed by the t-shirt and tank top she wore underneath. No bra, I noticed. Not that she needed it under all those layers. My gaze took in every bruise and scar.
Liss tensed. Her shoulders rose up around her ears, and she fisted her fingers into the sheets. A second ago, she’d been confident enough to act up. Now she was…hesitant. Drawing into herself as if she could hide, but it didn’t seem to be shyness.
