Page 76 of Duplicitous
His hand cracks across my butt, stinging even through my jeans.
“Don’t sass me again,” he warns. “You’ll only make things worse for yourself.”
He leans over me and secures my wrists to the opposite corner of the desk, stretching me out beneath him. His thick erection presses into my ass, and I tense.
“Wait,” I pant. “I’m not… This is too fast.”
He backs away just enough so that our only contact is his hand in my hair. His fingers play through the brunette locks in a soothing rhythm.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” he promises.
“But don’t you…” My cheeks heat, and I’m not sure if I’m disappointed or flustered. “Don’t you want me?”
“You have no idea how goddamn badly I want you,” he confesses. “But I won’t take more than you’re ready to give.”
I draw in a shaky breath and relax beneath his tender touch on my hair.
It defies all logic, but he’s promised to keep me safe so many times. He won’t hurt me now.
And I’m so consumed by need that logic left the room a long time ago.
“Are you ready to be punished?” he asks, voice low and deep with his own desire.
I try and fail to suppress a shiver. “What about my kiss?”
“So greedy,” he admonishes. “You’ll get your kiss eventually.”
For a moment, I think of Bones’ rough growl. He often accuses me of being greedy.
Rand seems every bit as domineering as my masked man.
I guess I have a type.
I shove thoughts of Bones from my mind before guilt can nip at me. Rand is more than just a faceless man on a screen. He’s all too real, his body heat pulsing over me.
His deft fingers find the button at the front of my jeans.
I tense again, but he shushes me gently. “I’m in charge, but you’re the one in control. Nothing will happen without your consent.”
“I don’t want to stop,” I whisper.
My body is on fire for him. My clit pulses madly, and my nipples are hard against my bra. The pressure of my breasts on the desk is a delicious ache that makes my core flutter with an answering throb.
He drags my jeans down my legs, allowing them to bunch at my ankles in a perverse sort of hobble. With my wrists trapped and my pants tangled around my calves, there’s no evading him.
His fingers trace the outline of my black lace panties. “I like these. I guess I’ll have to buy a replacement.”
“What are you?—?”
My question ends on a gasp when he tears the delicate underwear. A rush of cool air teases over my wet, heated pussy, and I groan in wanton abandon.
“I need you to be quiet for me,” he says. “As much as I would love for you to scream my name, I don’t want the other faculty to hear you.”
The ruined underwear appear in my field of vision, nearing my mouth.
My defiance flares, and I try to jerk away.
But there’s nowhere for me to go.
