Burned Deep (Burned 1)

“Stop talking,” I said as I worked myself a little faster. “You’re not the one who’s supposed to be getting me off.”

“But you want me to get you off,” he challenged.

“Of course. But what I really want is for you to watch and get absolutely wild over the fact that it’s not you … at the moment.”

His gaze smoldered. “How long do you think you can last before you beg me, baby?”

I already knew the answer to that devious question. But I played the game. “How long do you think you can last before you rip through that sash and finish the job yourself?”

His hips jerked. His stomach rippled.

I snickered. Then I placed a hand on his shoulder, pinning him down. Leaning over him, I stared into his eyes and slipped two fingers inside my wet pussy. I pumped vigorously. He watched every expression that crossed my face. I alternated between rubbing my clit and stroking my inner walls. I could see he resisted the urge to take one of my nipples in his mouth, because he followed my rules.

I lifted my leg and planted my foot flat on the mattress next to his hip, not only spreading myself wider but also giving him a clear view of me pleasuring myself. I pushed my fingers deep inside and massaged quickly. My breath hitched. My eyes likely danced with excitement.

“You think you’re going to win?” he said in a husky voice.

“Yes.”

“Think again.”

He tore free of the sash, gripped my shoulders, and flipped me onto my back—as he’d said he wanted to do. His hard body was slippery against mine, the most tantalizing sensation. My hands roved his front and he felt magnificent under my fingertips as he let me explore his chest again.

Then he had a foil packet ripped open and a condom on before I could even process all the sparks shooting through me. Seconds later, he was thrusting deep and I came with a lustful cry and the sheer realizatio

n that I would never beat him at any challenge.

And that was okay.

* * *

I woke in the middle of the night. Alone.

It was an odd, empty feeling. Leaving me a bit cold when I’d so quickly become accustomed to Dane’s heat and presence. The way he wrapped himself around me and held on tight.

The oddity, I realized, came from the fact that I missed him lying next to me, missed him filling the space with his muscular body. I tossed off the covers and climbed out of bed. His bed, because he’d said that was where he liked me. I didn’t like that he’d slipped out on me.

Dressed in the pants he’d worn earlier, though he’d left the top button undone, Dane stood at the windows, staring out into the darkness. There were glowing embers in the hearth yet nothing for him to see outside but inky night.

I slipped on his shirt, capturing the smell of him again, and stole behind him. I circled my arms around his waist. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking.”

My hand moved up to his chest, the temptation too great. His hands covered mine, warm and strong.

“About what?”

“How I’m going to get my revenge.”

A chill ran down my spine. “Dane—”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

I considered this. On the one hand, I didn’t like how menacing his words were—or the implication behind them. Once more, I was faced with the concern of how far Dane might go to protect what was his.

The other risky piece to the puzzle was that he deserved to fix this situation his way. The investors he’d cut out were trying to capitalize on his blood, sweat, and tears. I could fully understand how furious that would make him. And I honestly didn’t know enough about what was going on to judge.

So what I worried most about was how he would react—and how accepting I’d be of his wrath. Because I walked the tightrope with him, wanting him to get his revenge but fearing what sort of person it made me if I approved of whatever he did to resolve the situation.