Page 14 of The Square

But I like the tease. I want to drive her wild with anticipation. I want to make her wait. I want to withhold her climax for as long as possible. I want to drag the ecstasy out of her, drip by drip.

“I want it,” she says. “Please. Give it to me.”

I want to. Badly. But not enough to give up this power I feel over her. She doesn’t hand over power often. Never to me, in fact. And when we were together with Alec it was a give and take. Had to be or it wouldn’t work.

But this is different in so many ways.

I crouch down, hands gripping her ass cheeks so hard there’ll be bruises tomorrow, and push her forward until her breasts are pressed up against the back of the couch and her chin is resting on the top of the cushion.

“Yes,” she says, as understanding floods through her. “Yes.”

And even though I’d like to prove her wrong, do something else and keep her on edge, her pussy smells delicious and I can’t stop myself. My tongue licks her. Pushes inside her, flicking back and forth, trying to get more than just a taste.

She gives in. Her shoulders drop, and her back goes supple, and her arms, though spread wide and appearing relaxed, aren’t. I can tell because she’s fisting the edge of the pillow. Gripping it with whatever strength she has left in this moment.

And that thought leads me to why I’m teasing her like this.

I like her powerless. Christine Keene is all power, all the time.

I like watching her give in to me.

“That’s better,” I say, sliding a third finger into her dripping wet pussy. “I like you like this.”

She huffs out a few unintelligible words that are most likely a litany of fuck-yous.

I pull my fingers out, waiting for her protest, and when she stays silent I feel more satisfaction than I should.

And now it’s time for a decision.

Do I want her to know me like this?

Do I want to be this guy with her?

Do I want to risk everything by showing her just now not-blue I am on the inside?

Probably a bad idea to make this choice when I’m so rock fucking hard I can barely see straight, but whatever.

And it’s not really a choice anyway, is it?

We’re here. Doing this. And there’s no Alec to keep me in check.

I reach out and grab her hair, pulling it so hard she has to sit up and bend backwards. I stand up, pulling until her back is flat against my chest. She’s panting now, probably surprised. Maybe a little off balance.

“Are you sure?” I growl into her ear. “Are you sure you want this?”

She breathes in and out three times. And what could’ve been thoughtful consideration or just a heat-of-the-moment yes, turns into hesitation.

I like that more than I want to admit.

I tug her hair again. Hard. So hard her head jerks to the side. “Answer me or I’ll stop and walk away.”

“Danny—”

“I don’t want to walk away,” I whisper, taking a moment to bite her earlobe. She squeaks out a cry of pain. “Believe me, I want nothing more than to stay right here and finish what we’ve started. But I will if you can’t take it.”

It’s bait. I know that. And it’s not fair. I know that too. But I don’t care.

“Yes,” she hisses, frustrated and… what? What else? Scared? No, Christine doesn’t scare easily.