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Jay closed the door behind us then leaned back against it, his ankles crossed. He’d taken my purse, set it on a sideboard in the entryway. I’d expected him to walk us farther into the house. Maybe to a bedroom. If there was someone in here like a housekeeper or assistant, I figured Jay would not want them to be privy to this.
But he didn’t walk any farther into the house. He just stood there, watching me, his eyes flickering between my own as if he was daring me to say something. To hesitate.
As my hands found the zipper of my dress, I refused to look down, to betray any more of my nerves. The air in the house was cold, cold enough to prickle at my exposed skin as I let the dress fall to my feet. Since the fit of the bodice didn’t require a bra and my underwear was still in my purse, I was completely naked underneath. I stepped out of the dress as Jay stood there, fully clothed, regarding me.
“Keep the shoes on,” Jay commanded as I bent to remove my spike heeled Manolos.
I straightened, obeying him immediately. I stood there for a second, completely naked, exposed to him. Every girl was a little self-conscious. Or a lot. Even the ones who graced magazine covers, who were ‘sex symbols’ in Hollywood. I’d experienced that first hand. No matter how many people told you that you were beautiful, there would always be an inner critic pointing out your flaws.
I didn’t hate my body. Like anyone, there were things I wanted to change. I wished my B cups were bigger, that my thighs were tighter, that I didn’t have as much cellulite on my thighs—even though it was impossible to be a grown, healthy adult woman and not have cellulite—and that my skin wasn’t so pale or flushed so easily. Like it was now. My entire body blushed when I was embarrassed, turned on, uncomfortable. There was no hiding my emotions. Especially not when every inch of my flushed skin was on display.
But something about Jay’s intense, probing, scrutinizing gaze made me feel powerful. Beautiful. Desirable. It didn’t exactly make sense, since there was no softening of his eyes, no movement of his mouth, nothing to communicate he liked what he saw. Apart from the way his jaw tightened, the hands at his sides turning to fists. Though the house was cold, his gaze was icy. He was turned on. For me.
“On your knees,” Jay ordered.
Again, I didn’t hesitate, especially after I saw the hard outline of his cock through his pants. My mouth went slack, and my body, no longer sated, shook with need.
The hardwood floor was cold against my knees, jarring. But I wasn’t focused on the hardness of the floor.
My hands no longer shook as I lifted them to free Jay from his pants. I did this while looking up at him, keeping my eyes locked on his. Jay’s entire body tightened as I grabbed a hold of him. He was large. Almost intimidatingly so. But not quite.
Although I was the one on my knees, he was at my mercy. I made sure to move slow. First, I ghosted my lips over him, blowing air along his tip. His body clenched as I teased him with the contact, my hand tight at his base.
The plan was to do this for longer, to relish in the small amount of control I had. But I couldn’t help myself. When my lips fastened around the tip of him, he let out a sound that was so guttural, so carnal, my body reacted in kind. I took him in. All of him.
My knees protested as I continued, pain shooting to my toes. But I liked it. That pain. I liked hurting myself while I was giving him pleasure.
I moved faster now. Hungrier. I wanted my lipstick on his dick. Wanted him to explode with pleasure just like I had. Wanted to swallow all of him and then kiss him so he knew what he tasted like on my lips.
But I wasn’t in control.
So just as his body tightened, seconds away from release, Jay moved. Or I moved. I don’t know exactly what happened, but my mouth was no longer wrapped around him, and he was pulling me upward. By my hair. My scalp burned with pain. But I liked that too.
“Put your hands on the wall,” Jay grunted, his usually green eyes now dark pools of lust.
I turned, doing what he’d said, splaying my legs out because I knew what was coming. His fingers cupped between my legs.
“Wet for me, aren’t you pet?” he murmured in my ear.
“Yes,” I breathed, barely able to keep myself upright.
I expected him to torture me more. To tease this out even longer, demonstrating the power he had over me. But he didn’t. He surged inside. Filled me. Completely. Utterly.
