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Upstairs, halfway down the dimly lit hallway, after fumbling with the keycard, the green light on the lock finally lit, and he pushed open the door.
Taking the initiative, I dragged him inside.
He shed his jacket as he locked the door.
I helped him with his shirt, wishing he’d worn something with easier buttons. “You’re a rich businessman, right?”
“Depends. Why?” he asked, pulling my top off.
“Because you’re gonna need a new shirt.” I ripped it open, and the two remaining buttons went skittering across the floor.
Thinking ahead, I’d worn my only matching bra and panty set—black, lacy mesh with a hint of see-through. Judging by his eyes once he pulled my pants down, my choice had the desired effect on him.
I struggled with his belt buckle and finally got it open as he pushed me backward onto the bed. I bounced once and yanked his belt, though instead of bringing him with me, it just pulled through the loops.
“What are you going to do with that?” he asked.
I bit the leather suggestively. “Are you going to stare all day or join me?” I held my hand out.
He straddled me and grabbed the belt. “Maybe you want me to tie you up?”
I shivered. “No.” I shoved at his chest.
“Maybe tie you down instead of tie you up,” he joked.
It was anything but a joke with me. “No,” I repeated as I looked away. A tear escaped. I was not repeating my Kevin mistake and giving up control. Just the suggestion of becoming the version of myself I’d been with Kevin triggered a fear I obviously hadn’t conquered.
Be strong. Stay in control. I’m my own woman and make my own choices.
As much as I wanted to believe I was now free of him, Kevin still held sway over my emotions. I couldn’t escape the guilt of what I’d allowed to happen. I’d let myself be dominated, more emotionally than anything else, but I couldn’t, I wouldn’t regress to being that version of Angela again.
Boone threw the belt to the side and leaned forward, wiping the tear from my cheek. He stroked my hair. “Angel, I was joking. I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do.”
His words cut into me. I’d turned what had been a joyous evening into this…this argument, and it sucked. I sniffled once and mentally climbed into my big-girl panties. I wouldn’t allow Kevin to ruin this.
Reaching up and grabbing at his hair, I pulled him closer. “I’ll tell you what I want.” I shifted and shoved at his shoulder, trying to roll us. “I want to be on top. I’m gonna ride you until you come, and come again, and again. Then you’re going to beg me for more.”
“Wrong.” He tumbled us to the side. “You can be on top, but you’re going to be the one screaming for mercy, the one who won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
Challenge accepted. The race was on. I worked his zipper down while he reached around me to unclasp my bra. His one-handed move was so fast that it reminded me he’d probably had an obscene amount of experience with other women.
I’m doing it again—sabotaging myself. I will not think of Lisa or other women he may have been with.With renewed vigor, I tugged at his pants.
He lifted up enough for me to shimmy them down his legs. Boxer briefs came next and his magic cock sprang loose, hard as ever.
He worked at the rest of my clothes.
In moments I was on top, both of us gloriously naked as I took in this beautiful man. “You’re mine tonight.” He’d called me his girl, but I was in control now and he was my guy, my man—all mine.
“And you’re mine,” he said unwilling to be outdone.
I slid myself down the length of him, getting an electric jolt as my clit glided over his crown and back. Back and forth, I worked myself over his shaft, coating him with my wetness, relishing the carnal need that filled those warm, brown eyes of his.
Then he clamped his eyes shut, moaning to my rhythm. I’d been sure I was going to win this race and make him come first, but the shock of running my sensitive nub over his tip made the result a little less certain.
“Condom,” he said through gritted teeth. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. I was getting him close, and he didn’t want to shoot his load. “Back pocket.” He pointed toward his pants.
Climbing off to get the packet of protection gave me a second to calm myself as well—to get back the control I needed. But the sight of Boone fisting himself as I retrieved the wrapper did nothing to quell my libido. What was it about my man pleasuring himself that I found so erotic? Maybe it was the way his cock stood so straight up as he did it, begging me to jump on.
