Page 11

Kira peeks up at me through her long, dark lashes, and I see the moment she realizes I’m not accepting her evasion. Her fingers twist in the lace at her hip.

She catches her trembling lower lip between her teeth. “I… um…”

“You, what?” I snap.

“Give me a second,” she shoots back. “I just woke up and I’m trying to explain.”

“Did you wear this because you want me to fuck you?” The words are blunt, designed to shock her into truth. “Is that why you stood in my bathroom and put on lace that leaves nothing hidden? Why you waited for me like an offering?”

Her eyes flick to my face, then away, then back. She’s trying to read me, trying to understand what answer I want, and that’s not what I’m asking for. I want her fucking honesty and not a performance.

“I…” She stops. Then starts again. “I want you to want me.”

That’s better, but still not enough. “And why is that?” I lean forward slightly. “Are you that eager to know what happens when I stop asking questions and start taking?”

She nods. It’s small, tentative, her chin dipping once before she seems to catch herself and stills. But she’s watching my mouth now. Her own lips have parted, and I can see the flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat where the black lace cuts across her skin.

I reach out and catch her chin between my thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up until she has no choice but to meet my eyes.

“Words,” I remind her, my voice dropping lower. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes.” The word breaks from her, barely audible, her lips moving against my fingers. “I-I want you.”

Heat crawls beneath my collar, and my grip on her chin tightens before I catch myself. The admission costs her something. I can see it in the way her shoulders tense, in the way she holds herself so still, like she’s waiting for me to pounce. And fuck, I want to.

I release her chin and let my hand trail down her throat, over the clasp of the babydoll, down to where the lace gapes open and her breasts are barely contained. She pulls in a sharp breath that hitches at the end as my thumb brushes the underside.

The sound is so close to a moan that my cock throbs against my zipper. “Strip for me,” I command.

The flush that had been receding floods back, deeper now, spreading down her chest. She looks at me with something like panic while processing the command.

“Now,” I add, my tone harsher. “Show me what you’re so eager to give me.”

There’s a fine tremor in her hands as she pushes herself up to her knees. Then she brings her fingers to the clasp of the black lace, her skin pale against the dark fabric, her breathing shallow enough that I can see the hesitation in every rise of her chest.

I watch the exact moment she pushes that hesitation down and squares her shoulders. “Okay,” she murmurs.

She releases the clasp, and the babydoll falls open, sliding from her shoulders in a whisper of sheer fabric that pools around her knees. Her movements are careful, as if she’s performing a task she can’t afford to mess up.

Then she sits back on her heels, her spine straight, her chin lifting slightly in a gesture that looks like defiance.

She’s bare except for the thong now. “Y-you can touch me,” she stammers, still not meeting my gaze.

I reach out and cup her breast in my palm, feeling the weight of it, the softness, the way her breath stops when I squeeze. I roll her nipple between my fingers, watching it harden, watching her lips part on a sound she doesn’t release.

“What do you like?” I ask.

She bites her bottom lip, her gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder, and shrugs one shoulder—the movement small, defensive.

I frown as I move my hand to her throat, wrapping my fingers around the delicate flesh. “Use. Your. Fucking. Words,” I grind out, squeezing harder with each word. “I won’t keep reminding you, Kira.”

She flinches, her eyes flying wide to meet mine, her mouth forming a perfect O of surprise.

“Are you ready to talk?” I ask harshly.

At her nod, I let go of her throat and gesture for her to talk.

“I don’t know,” she rushes out as she rubs the skin on her throat. Frowning, I look for signs she’s lying to me, but there’s something genuine in the admission, something that makes my cock throb harder. “No one’s ever… I haven’t…”