“Close your eyes,” I murmur, and Clover does so immediately. Her obedience makes me smile. It also causes me to think about her in the most deliciously filthy ways. “Imagine we’re in the dark—just you and me. But there’s a salacious symphony playing out around you. Listen to the sounds of naked flesh. I’m sitting in a large armchair, leaning back with my legs spread, just enough space for you to kneel between.”
“Gideon.” My name is a breathy whimper on her lips, which ignites the need that’s coursing through me. “I’m…”
“Now open your eyes.”
She obeys her gaze wide on the couple before us. The woman’s thighs spread wide, kept like that with a spreader bar. Her body arches from the mattress as the man whips her with a flogger.
Clover’s lashes dance along her rosy cheeks. Her beauty is natural, smooth porcelain skin. And there’s not even a shred of mascara on her curled lashes.
“Imagine I’m doing that to you.” My voice turns husky on the last few words, and I notice Clover shifting on her feet. “Your panties are wet. Aren’t they?”
She flicks her gaze over her shoulder to mine. “Yes, I am,” she tells me in a hushed whisper.
“And you’d like to touch yourself?” I arch a brow, regarding her with amusement. “As much as I’d love to watch that—” I’m cut off by the woman screaming her release, causing Clover’s gaze to snap toward the bed.
A shiver trickles through her, and I can’t help but smile. Taking my thumb and forefinger, I find her hardened nipple and gently tweak it, pinching ever so slightly. The pain mingled with the pleasure of my ministrations has her whimpering.
“Gideon,” she breathes my name, and I know she’s losing herself to the pleasure from that pressure point. I do it again, this time to the other, causing her to moan then whimper.
“Do your panties feel wetter now?” I question, before turning her to meet my gaze. Her eyes that are pinned on me, desire is written all over her face.
“Wetter?” she quips her perfectly arched brow lifting. “What makes you think I was wet before?” she teases.
“I can read you, Clover. Your face holds all your expressions, and I can read you like a book. Easily and swiftly.” I keep my voice low, and I’m tempted to lift her against me, but I don’t. “Take your panties off.”
Her eyes widen further, and I know I’m testing all her limits now. “Right here?” Her voice is squeaky when she questions me, and I nod, keeping my expression schooled. I don’t want to give her any reason to doubt how much I want to inhale her scent from the wet material I know she’s wearing.
I’ve only done this once before, as a dare, and the girl who was seated opposite me at the time, shook her head and walked out. But something tells me this beauty is going nowhere.
She shifts, her mouth pursed, but her concentration is cute as she shimmies out of the material. The redheaded beauty is definitely someone I can see myself wanting to collar.
Her shyness, yet that fire she doesn’t allow to dim, is addictive. I want more.
Clover glances around her, and I watch as she pushes her panties down. I can see this because she reaches for the material on the floor. I hold out my hand, allowing her to place the balled-up lace underwear in the palm of my hand.
Bringing the item up to my nose, I inhale a deep breath. Clover’s saucer-wide eyes are locked on her panties in my hand, right at my nose. People pass by us, but nobody takes notice of what’s going on. All the while, I keep my gaze locked on the beet-red cheeks of Clover Brassington.
I lace my fingers in hers and lead her toward the private room. Once inside, I shut the door and allow Clover to move deeper into the space while leaning back against the wood.
“Take off your dress.” My voice is husky with need, and she turns to regard me, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she slips the material from her body. The moment it pools at her feet, my cock throbs. Her hands attempt to cover the apex between her thighs, and I can’t help but smile. “Are you as shy on stage?” I ask her. “When you’re performing. Do you also hide like you are right now?”
This causes her to dart her gaze to mine. She shakes her head. “No, when I’m up there, singing, the music holds me hostage. It gives me the courage and confidence I need.”
“Why do you need confidence? You’re beautiful, alluring, you should own all those emotions already. You, little Clover, are a star. One that’s burning so brightly already, there is no longer a need to hide.”
From the expression on her face, it looks like she doesn’t believe me. A girl who’s about to blow up the charts with her debut album, there’s something deep down that’s bothering her. She should be overconfident, rather than the meek little mouse that’s looking at me.