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My wet skin tingling, I shuddered in his hold. “You’re going to make me come.”
“You’ll come, all right,” he said darkly. “But you’ll wait for my cock.”
“Then you’d better hurry and give it to me.”
He nibbled on my earlobe. Wetness rushed to my core as he walked us toward the bed. Pulling back the coverlet, he tossed me in it. Staring at me with passion-darkened eyes, he reached behind his shoulder blades and drew his black collared shirt over his head.
I sat up. Tossing my hair out of my way, I started to untie the bow on my robe.
“No, I get to do that.” He shook his head, toeing out of his slip-on shoes while unthreading his leather belt. “This goes the way I want tonight. You ran from me. You owe me.”
I didn’t argue with him. Maybe I did owe him. Besides, I wanted this. Just one more time before I had to say good-bye. He took my hands and wound the supple leather around them.
“What are you doing?” Surprised, I blinked up at him through my lashes.
“You. I’m doing you,” he said low, and my wet pussy quivered. “Lay back.”
He unzipped his gray pants and dragged them down his narrow hips and powerful thighs, taking his black boxer briefs with them.
I licked my lips when his erection sprang free.
“Arms over your head,” he ordered.
“Yes, Champion.” I wanted the pleasure he could give me. Denying it would be the biggest lie. Sweeping my gaze over every sharply defined section of his chiseled form, I complied eagerly.
He knelt on the mattress, and it dipped beneath his weight. Reaching for me, he untied my belt. The warmth of his fingers tantalized, even through the silk.
“Eyes on me,” he said and held my gaze when I gave it to him. “You’re so beautiful, Electra.”
He spread apart the two sides of my robe. In only my pasties and my G-string, the cooler air rushed over my skin.
“Touch me,” I begged.
My breasts ached. The tips tingled. Between my legs, I was wet, my clit throbbing. But he didn’t touch me. He ran his gaze over me instead, and it felt like a caress.
“I hate that other men get to see you,” he said, frowning.
“They only see a stripper,” I said. “Only you get this part of me.”
I’d given him the real me once. What was the harm in one more time?
“All is what I’m after.” He reached for the tassel attached to my pasty. The long fringe lay over the bottom swell of my breast.
I held my breath as he lifted and sifted through the fine strings. His gaze rose. He ensnared me with his hunger. He tugged, and I felt it in two places, my nipple and my aching clit.
“Oh, Champion.” I exhaled shakily. “I need you.”
“You’ll have me, eventually.” His lips curving into a wicked smile, he took and tugged on the other tassel. More wetness rushed between my quivering legs.
“Again.”
I begged shamelessly, and he did it again. Back and forth, he went. Sifting so the fringe teased my sensitive skin, he tugged firmly. Nipples to clit, I throbbed.
“Please.” Panting, with my arms over my head as he’d ordered, I was his to do with as he pleased, and I liked that. I undulated my hips.
“Are you wet for me, baby?” Not waiting for my answer, he ran his palm down the center of my body.
Reveling in the heat of his touch, I lifted my hips. Where our skin connected, I burned.
