Big Man

It dawns on me, and my eyes widen. “You planned this,” I accuse him, chin jutting out.

He swings me down and lands me on my feet lightly, amusement dancing in his gaze. “Not exactly. Not everything.” He tilts his head and raises a brow. “I didn’t know you’d accept that bet.”

“You didn’t know you’d win the game either,” I point out, crossing my arms.

He shrugs. “I was fairly confident.”

I snort.

He steps closer, eying me. “Even if you could’ve won, you wouldn’t have.” His eyes trace over me, so hot I can practically feel his gaze like a touch, even though he’s still a foot away. “Because you want to be mine, Sasha. You want to know what I’ll make you do.”

My pussy tightens at those words. I can’t exactly deny it. It’s exactly what I was thinking when he made that bet. Still, I have some pride. I cross my arms and raise my chin. “What makes you so sure?”

He steps closer, and reaches out a finger to trace it up my arm. He trails it all the way up to my shoulder, then across my shoulder to cup my neck in his palm lightly. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to lean into that touch right now. “I can see it in your eyes. How much you want to be mine. My slave for the night.”

I swallow hard against a tight lump in my throat. I’m soaking wet now, damn him, and he fucking knows it, to judge by his confident smirk.

“Isn’t that right, city girl?”

I bite my lip. Hesitate. Then I finally inhale sharply and catch my breath. “I was curious, country boy.”

“That’s master to you. For the next hour.” He grins, a spark in his eyes.

“I was curious… Master.” I lean into the word, emphasize it with sarcasm. But there is something sexy about calling him that. Submitting to him completely.

“Kneel down,” he says, and I glance down at the hardwood floors of the tree house. It’s surprisingly cozy in here, a little bed in one corner, a cushy couch nearby. But the hard wood floor doesn’t exactly look appealing. Grant follows my gaze and leans past me to grab a pillow from the couch, which he tosses at my feet.

I follow his order and drop to my knees on the pillow.

“Undo my jeans,” he says.

I reach up for the button, toying with it for a moment, gazing up at him and memorizing this view. He towers over me from this angle, and something animal and instinctive in me loves that.

I undo the button and tease the moment out, taking my time pulling down his zipper. I can already feel the hard line of his cock through the thick denim. I draw the zipper down slowly, and his cock is so thick it pushes his boxers forward even before I pull his jeans down his hips.

“Take off my jeans.”

I yank them down, until they puddle on the ground between his feet.

“Boxers too,” he says, and I glance up to make eye contact before I slide those down, an inch at a time, slowly, taking my time. When his cock springs free at last, though, I have to catch my breath all over again at seeing him this close up.

His cock truly is fucking glorious. I reach up to touch him, to trace the veins that bulge along his sides, standing out against his rock hard shaft. But he clicks his tongue and stops me in my tracks.

“I didn’t say to touch me yet,” he scolds, and I sit back on my heels with a little pout, stealing a glance up at him. “Apologize.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, holding his gaze.

He raises an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m sorry, Master.” That word sends another shiver into my belly, another rush in my veins.

“I want you to taste me, Sasha,” he says, his voice low with suppressed desire.

I lean forward, my lips hovering an inch from his tip.

“Lick my cock.”

I lick the tip of his cock with the flat blade of my tongue, and my whole body goes stiff with want. Fuck. He tastes good. Salty and earthy and all him, like his scent but magnified. I want more. I trail my tongue down the side of his shaft, first one, then the other, keeping my eyes fixed on him all the while, enjoying the view up along his washboard abs, visible through his tight T-shirt. Even better is the way he watches me explore him, his eyes hooded with desire as he focuses on what I’m doing.

“Play with my balls while you lick me,” he says, and I’m all too eager to raise both hands and cup his balls between them, rolling his balls through my fingers as I continue to lick up and down his length, making him slick with my saliva.