Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
‘No fucking about. I want inside you now. You fuck about, I swear to God...’ He’s deadly serious.
‘You’re so romantic.’
‘We’ve got all the time in the world for romance, lady.’
Have we?
He barges into the penthouse, slamming the door behind him. I’m a touch disorientated when he lowers me to my feet in the kitchen. I stand before him, my hands resting on his shoulders, trying to get my bearings.
‘You know, you’re really not going to be in a fit state to work tomorrow.’ His hot breath is leaving condensation on my face. ‘Strip, now.’
I’m shaking – visibly shaking. I demand my hands to remove themselves from his shoulders, but they’re having none of it. I try to pull myself together, but it’s impossible when he’s looking at me like that. I feel his hands lay over mine and peel them away from his shoulders. He places them on my stomach.
‘Start with the shirt.’ His voice is throaty, tinged with a bit of desperation.
I can do this; I can be audacious. ‘So, am I in charge?’ I ask, inwardly bracing myself for his scoff.
It doesn’t come. He looks at me, the slight surprise at my question clear, but he doesn’t laugh. He can’t be in control all of the time.
‘If it makes you happy,’ He unclasps his Rolex and slides it onto the island.
Oh, it does. I give myself a mental pep talk. I can do this, I can do this. I take a deep breath and, staring him boldly in the eye, raise my hands to my top button, willing my fingers to co-operate. Every button I undo, his face strains harder, and I become bolder. If this isn’t fucking about, then I don’t know what is.
I release my shirt, letting it hang open, and watch as he scrapes his eyes down my torso, his tongue running across his parted bottom lip. Liking this response I’m getting, I take my hands to my shoulders and pull my shirt away, accentuating the slow push forward of my breasts when I lower it down my arms. Like the wanton sex fiend that I am, I hold it out to my side for a few seconds while his eyes travel back up my body. Then, when our eyes meet again, I dramatically open my palm and let it fall to the floor, leaving my arm outstretched and hovering at my side for a few seconds. His eyes are blazing, his forehead damp. Oh, I’m really doing this well.
‘I love you in lace.’ he whispers.
I smile. I’m really into my stride now. I lower my steady hands to the fly of my trousers and lazily undo one button at a time as he watches. His panting is increasing by the second, and the drain on his self-control has him chewing his lip to the point of drawing blood.
Once all the buttons are undone and my trousers are gaping open, I stand with my hands tucked in the front, ready to drag them down my legs, but I don’t. I’m too enthralled by his reaction to my shameless strip. I like this role reversal.
He looks up at me, his eyes blazing and desperate. ‘I could rip them off in two seconds flat.’
‘But you won’t.’ My voice is husky and alluring. I’m stunned by my own brashness. ‘You’ll wait.’ I kick my shoes off, sending them flying a few yards across the kitchen.
He follows their course before looking back at me with raised eyebrows. ‘Taking this a bit far, aren’t you?’
I smile sweetly as little by little, inch by inch, I slide my capri pants down my legs and kick them off. I’m stood in my coral lace underwear before this glorious man, and I’ve lost all my inhibitions. It’s an eye-opener. Who would have thought I could be so brash? I like being in charge!
He lifts his hand to stroke my chest. ‘No.’ I utter firmly, his hand floating over my breast bone. It’s not touching me, but the heat emanating from it has me nearly hyperventilating. Here’s me telling him to wait, and I’m as desperate as he is. My self-control is wavering, but I really love this power.
‘Fuck you.’ he mumbles, dropping his hand.
‘Please do.’
He smirks. ‘Beg.’
Beg? How did this turn around so quickly? I don’t think so. ‘I would rather go without.’
‘Leave your hair alone, Ava.’ His eyes darken further. I drop my hair, while he drops his eyes. ‘You’re still wearing your underwear.’
I glance down. ‘What are going to do about that?’
‘I’m going to do nothing,’ he shrugs. ‘Unless you beg,’
‘I don’t think so.’ I say coolly. I’m not backing down.
‘We might be here a while then.’
‘We might.’ I agree.
‘Maybe longer than Friday,’ He’s pokerfaced.
Oh, the sly sod! He just can’t let it drop, can he? I narrow my eyes at him as he raises his eyebrows at me. So, we’re in a stand-off, neither one of us wanting to make the first move. He should! He’s the one who declared he wanted no fucking about, so help him God…