Page 87 of Playing Dirty
And that's when I make my decision.
I climb off his lap and stand in front of him, and before I can lose my nerve, I reach back and pull the zipper of my dress down slowly, the sound loud in the quiet apartment. The fabric slips off my shoulders and pools at my feet.
Underneath, I'm wearing a new set of red lace lingerie.
"Wow." He says it quietly, his eyes traveling over me like he's trying to memorize the sight. "Margot."
"I've been thinking about what I want." My heart is pounding, but my voice comes out steady. "And I want to actually say it.”
He studies me for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Alright, Ace. Tell me what you want."
"You. In charge. Completely." I hold his gaze, my face burning and my chin up anyway. "Not in life. But occasionally, during sex, I like someone else to tell me what to do. Sometimes after days of managing everything and everyone, I want something a bit more... intense. I never ask for it, because I've always hated the feeling of being out of control with anyone else."
He's watching me so intensely I feel like I might actually combust under the weight of his stare, and it takes every scrap of nerve I have not to laugh it off and take it back. I don't usually voice what I want during sex, especially not this. It's too vulnerable, too much like handing someone an instruction manual tome. But it's been a fantasy of mine forever, being able to fully let go.
"But with you," I continue, "you make me feel so safe, and so loved, like I don't have to worry about taking care of everything the way I do with everyone else. And I want you to take chargeduring sex tonight. That's what I want, Cillian. I want you to be dominant."
I hold my breath for a moment, and he rises off the couch to his full height. Suddenly I'm very aware of how much bigger he is than me. How much stronger. How easily he could do anything he wanted to me.
With Cillian, the thought doesn't scare me. Itthrillsme.
He closes the distance instantly, capturing my mouth in a kiss so deep and starving it makes my head spin, his arms wrapping around me while I melt against his hard frame. Then he’s walking me backward, maneuvering us toward the bedroom, steering me through the shadows, neither of us willing to break the contact for anything as mundane as navigation.
We stumble through the doorway in a tangle of limbs. The backs of my knees hit the mattress and I tumble onto the soft duvet, hauling him down with me, and for a moment there is only the thick heat of him and the pulse of desire humming through my blood like a live wire.
Then he pulls back, just a fraction. "One second, Ace."
"Cillian—"
"Just one second." He presses a lingering kiss to the line of my jaw and pushes off the bed, crossing the room to the control panel. His bedroom is a wall of glass, the entire glittering sprawl of the San Francisco skyline laid out beyond it, and when he touches the button the automatic blinds begin their slow, heavy descent, the city lights vanishing panel by panel.
A sudden, reckless surge of confidence washes over me. I feel bold. Sure of myself in a way I never want to lose.
Sliding off the edge of the bed, I stand and reach for the dark red lace. He turns toward me by the window, and I hold his gaze with my heart hammering. I unclip the clasp and let the straps slide from my shoulders, the bra falling to the floor with a soft rustle.
My fingers hook into the waistband, sliding the matchinglace down my thighs until I can step free of the fabric, and neither of us moves. Cillian just drinks me in, and I let him, holding perfectly still in the dim, golden light and feeling, absurdly, more powerful than I have in years.
His heavy gaze travels down my body with a slow, agonizing intensity, and I watch his hands curl into fists at his sides as if he’s physically warring with the urge to claim me.
Good. I want him to feel every bit as unraveled as I am.
"You can have me however you want,” I say, my voice steady despite the frantic pulse in my throat. "I want to submit completely, just for tonight, and I want you to give orders. Just say the word and I'll do exactly as I'm told."
Something dark and focused shifts in his expression at the confession. That tender, protective warmth gives way to a look of raw dominance. He straightens to his full, imposing height, and the very air in the room feels suddenly thick and electric.
"Get on your knees," he commands, the Irish lilt low and dangerous.
My breath catches. "What?"
"You heard me, sweetheart." His voice is calm, controlled, but there's steel underneath it. "You want me to take charge? You want to give yourself to me? Then get on your knees."
I sink down without hesitation, my knees hitting the cold hardwood floor, my hands resting on my bare thighs.
"Good girl." The words send a pulse of heat straight to my core. He's still fully clothed, standing by the door, watching me. "Now crawl to me."
I swallow hard. "Cillian..."
"You can do it, sweetheart." His voice softens just slightly, that tenderness bleeding through the command. "Show me how much you want me. Show me how much you trust me. Crawl to me."
