His brow arched high. “No? Are you fucking kidding me?”
I shook my head and leaned against him, allowing my breasts to flatten against his chest. His hardness was pressed in the V of my thighs, the thought of what was about to happen was nearly driving me crazy with need. “I want to do this.”
His lips flattened into a thin line, and he dropped his hands from my body, folding them behind his head. “Go ahead. Do your worst, then. Let's see what you've got, Nalia.”
I gave him a cat-like smile and sat back up, grabbing the end of my shirt and pulling it over my head, throwing it on the floor beside the bed. Tonight, I wanted him writhing under my touch, begging for me to finish. I wanted to be the one in charge. My bra went next, and I heard the swift intake of his breath as his eyes feasted on my bare breasts, the fire simmering in their deep blue depths.
True to his word, though, he didn’t move or try to take charge of the situation. I smiled, pleased with his obedience, and promptly grabbed the edge of his shirt, slowly and achingly revealing his washboard stomach. “Take it off,” I instructed in a tone that suggested there would be no compromise on this.
“Gladly,” he agreed, pulling the shirt the rest of the way and throwing it off to the side. His hand reached for me, and I mimicked the arched brow he’d given me, for
cing him to put his hands back where they had been above his head.
“Not yet,” I scolded him. “I told you, I'm the one in charge here.”
“Damn,” he answered, his breath ragged. “Are you trying to kill me, Nalia? Shit, I'm not sure how much longer I can hold out like this!”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I simply smiled at him, a lustful, flirtatious smile that I could see had the effect of driving him even wilder. I kept my eyes locked into his as I ran my hands over his chest, marveling at the way he was built—so powerful, muscles so hard and chiseled, without an ounce of flab anywhere on him. He really was close to perfect. And this body was mine, all mine for the whole night.
Leaning down, I trailed kisses along his chest, right above his heart. Silently, I considered what I was doing as a thought suddenly entered my mind. It had been an unconscious action, but I guess I had just wanted to be close to his heart. He probably wouldn’t understand the meaning, and I wasn’t so sure I fully understood what was going on, either, but tonight, it didn’t matter. Tonight, we were just going to lose ourselves in the moment.
I allowed my tongue to trace a trail over his pecs, slowly tasting the saltiness of his skin as it moved over it. He didn’t flinch, but I could hear the change in his breathing, feel the strain of him against his jeans. When I reached his belly button, I allowed myself to slide with tantalizing slowness down his body, my fingers working on the button of his fly.
“Nalia,” he warned as I flicked it open and pulled down his zipper.
I looked up and gave him a stern shake of my head. “No talking, Owen. Don’t forget, I’m the one in charge here,” I murmured. “Now, do as I tell you and raise your hips.”
His expression was stormy, but he did as I instructed so I could pull his jeans down over his hips and to his ankles, sliding back up to free him from his boxers. He was pulsating against my hand, hot, swollen, and as hard as a rock. I ran my thumb over the tip, causing him to jerk ever so slightly beneath my touch. He was ready, and so was I.
“What do you want?” I asked softly, looking up at him. His eyes were hungry, his jaw clenched tightly as he stared at me.
“I want you.”
“How badly?”
“Like I’ve never wanted anyone before in my life. Please, Nalia, you’re killing me.”
I squeezed him gently, earning a groan in response, knowing that I couldn’t last much longer myself. But I was determined. He wasn't going to get me just yet. I wanted to drag the experience out a little more.
It didn’t matter that I wanted it as badly as he did, I was enjoying the feeling of control. I caressed the head of his long, powerful member with gentle fingertips, and he shuddered and moaned at the pleasure it brought.
“Jesus, Nalia,” he uttered as I began to stroke his shaft up and down in a gentle rhythm. It wasn’t easy to maintain the feather light touch, only just brushing my hand over it when I wanted to wrap my fingers around his hard length and have my way with him. He twisted and turned, gasping loudly with ecstasy.
“Are you ready, Owen?” I purred.
“Are you kidding? Damn, Nalia, I can't hold on for another fucking minute! I need you. Now. So fucking badly.”
I wiggled out of my skirt and panties and slid up his body, rubbing his hard planes against my already heated skin. “I won’t make you suffer for too much longer. You've been a good boy, and you deserve a reward, I think.”
“Thank God,” he breathed as I brushed my lips over his. “How long before I can touch you? You don't understand how bad you're torturing me right now.”
“Soon,” I promised, sliding back down again, my stomach gliding over his. God, he was so hard. Moisture pooled between my thighs in anticipation. Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, I located the ever-present condom and opened it, pulling out the slim rubber before reaching for him again. He groaned and hit his head against the headboard, his hands clenching the sheets as I pressed my lips to his bulging tip before sliding the condom over him.
The anticipation was building and becoming far too intense to hold out for much longer. I rose up on my knees and positioned myself above him, looking him directly in his eyes. “Do you know who you are fucking tonight?”
“You,” he growled, his eyes boring into mine. “Only you, Nalia. Only you.”
Satisfied, I lowered myself on him, not stopping until he completely filled me. I groaned as I felt his length press as deeply as I could take him. I caught my breath and spoke. “You can touch me now.”