Page 45 of First Touch

“Your cock.” I knew these lines. They were the ones every man wanted to hear. “I want your cock.”

He moved to his belt now, undoing the buckle with deliberate care. “Too vague. What do you want me to do to you? Tell me.”

Anxiety fluttered in my chest. “I want whatever you want.” But my voice sounded meek. Tentative.

Reeve pulled his belt from his pants and flicked it with frustration. “Stop pandering.”

I jumped at the snap of the belt, at the snap of his tone. I’d already dropped the façade of playing with myself. Now I dropped the sugar in my tone as well. “I’m not pandering. I’m trying to do what you want. You’re the director. Remember?”

He smiled tightly. “And right now your director wants you to tell him what you want. In detail.”

I stared, wide-eyed. Nothing was coming to mind except the truth, and saying that would make me too vulnerable. Too exposed. I needed another answer. Anything.

The silence dragged out too long.

“If you can’t say it, then this doesn’t need to happen.” He turned his back to me, walking away as he spoke. “The car key is on the counter. You can let yourself —”

I bolted up. “I want you to fuck me!” The words tumbled out. “Hard.”

Reeve spun back to me. “Where? In your mouth, in your cunt?”

“There.” I shook my head, erasing my last response, knowing he’d want a more definitive answer. “My cunt.”

“On the bed?”

“No. Against the window. From behind. I want you to strip me and press me hard to the glass. So it will feel like anyone can see. And anyone who does will know that I’m special because I’m the one you’re fucking.”

He crossed to me in four strides. Gripping my upper arms, he pushed me back against the window. “And you don’t want me to be gentle. You want me to fuck you rough. You want me to leave you raw so that tomorrow you won’t be able to forget for one second that I was in you tonight.”

Yes. That. Yes. I nodded.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“I don’t want you to be gentle. I want it rough and raw. I won’t forget that you were in me tonight.” God, saying the words – the words that said what I really truly wanted from him – it did something to me. Made me even more aroused.

He knew that, I was sure. That man, I swear he could see inside my mind. Inside my soul. Knew just what it would take to make me come undone.

His grip on me loosened. “Take out my cock, Emily.”

My hands shook as I undid the button and slid down the zipper to his pants. Then I drew in a sharp breath, surprised to find he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He was, exactly as I’d thought from our first time together, well hung.

Despite my promise to myself to remain detached, I was desperate to touch him. I had to do it anyway. He’d expect it. I closed my grip around his hard, thick length and stroked him. My eyes darted back and forth from my hand to his face. I couldn’t decide what I liked looking at more – his steel erection or his heated expression. So many times, the enjoyment I got from pumping a man was the power it gave me, and there was this, too, with Reeve. But even more predominant was the anticipation of what that expression said this man planned to do to me. Of what his hot shaft of flesh would feel like inside of me.

No. I didn’t care about that. It was inevitable, but I couldn’t look forward to it. I could not.

Without warning, he flipped me around so that I faced the window. He positioned my arms above my head. “Don’t move,” he said in a way that made it impossible to disobey even if I wanted to.

He reached around to cup my breasts and I let out an involuntary moan. They’d been begging for his attention since his eyes first lingered on them. Having them finally touched, finally fondled and caressed, was more erotic than I’d imagined. More pleasurable than I wanted it to be. I decided I would die if he ever stopped.

God, how I needed him to stop.

But that asshole took his time – squeezing, kneading, pinching my nipples – all the while sucking and nipping at my neck, my jaw. Something in his approach made it obvious that this was for him, for his pleasure. For his satisfaction. Was he simply enjoying my body? Or was he claiming me? Because I’d be marked when this was all over. Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t actually have any screen time. It would be a hell of a lot of hickeys for makeup to cover.

I was panting and on fire when he moved his touch lower, but, amazingly, still in control of my senses. I took that as a victory. One round down without losing myself to him. Could I make it through the next? My heart hammered in my chest as I braced myself for his fingers to find a new sensitive spot on my body to torment. Prepared for it to be my clit, I was surprised and relieved when, instead, he curled his fingers around the waistband of my panties.

“Thank you for telling me what you wanted, Em.” He shimmied my underwear over my ass, slowly. Teasingly.

The canyon, I thought. The lights. Focus on the lights.