Page 6 of Savage Prince
“Seven.” He reaches for his tie, loosening the knot before tugging it free. “Six. You’re running out of time,Ms. Smith.”
The extra emphasis on the name seems like a challenge or a test.Maybe a dare?
Does he know I’m not her? I’m not wearing a mask, so he can see my face. It has to be obvious ... unless he’s never seen Ms. Smith before and this is a prearranged sexual encounter between strangers. In which case ...
“Five.”
My mouth is no longer the Sahara Desert. No, it’s currently experiencing a hundred-year flood as he unfastens the top buttons of his shirt, revealing a perfectly sculpted chest and another piece of delicious artwork. It’s the perfect contradiction. With each button, the straight-laced businessman facade falls away to reveal a man I want to devour me.
A man who, from the heat blazing in his eyes, will do a damn good job of it.
“Four.”
I need this. His big hands dwarf the buttons but could easily manhandle me until I’m screaming out my release.
“Three.”
Then he parts the sides of his snowy white shirt and reveals washboard abs flanked on either side by tattoos that extend down his ribs to his hips. It’s like a frame for a body I didn’t know could exist in real life.
This isn’t even fair.My gaze skids to a halt when it reaches the sharply cut V and the tattoo that disappears into his suit pants. I bite down on my lip, mostly in an effort to stop the drool. There’s no decision to be made here. It’s a foregone conclusion. I’m not walking out that door.
“Two.”
Is it shallow, basing my choice on his body and how it ripples deliciously as he takes a step toward me? No. It’sprimal.I want him. I don’t care that I don’t know his name and he doesn’t know mine, and we’ll never see each other again after tonight.
I need this.
“One.” The corner of his lush mouth tugs up on one side, and my nipples and clit pulse in response. “God help you, because now you’re fuckingmine.”
He moves like a panther, quick and efficient, as he reaches out to wrap a hand around both my wrists, capturing them in front of me.
A squeak pops out from between my lips as he tugs me off the desk and spins me around to face it. He releases me only to press me forward with a hand at my lower back, until my nipples press hard against the wood.
“Do you know what strike three is, Ms. Smith?”
“No,” I whisper.Please tell me it leads to me getting all of him.
“You didn’t wear your mask. How many times am I going to have to spank this peach of an ass to remind you of the rules?”
My mouth drops open to answer, but I have no response.
“For every second you don’t answer me, you’re adding to your punishment.”
My mind races. How many? Do I lie? Tell the truth?
“Three,” I say, my voice breathy.
“Three. Plus your hesitation. Plus the fact your ass demands more ... I say ten.”
“But—”
“Go ahead. Argue with me. You might like the outcome.” His threats sound like a promise when delivered in that darkly sensual voice.
A cry from the other room steals our attention, and I turn my head to the side to see what’s happening. I can’t help myself.
“He’s fucking her ass, and she loves it.”
Shivers dart up my spine, but suddenly the glass of the window frosts, blocking out what’s happening in the other room.
