Skye leans into me and yawns.
“Tired?” I ask.
“No, I’m okay.”
“Good. You need to be awake for what I have in mind tonight.”
She quivers. Just a touch, but I can’t help but notice. I’m always tuned in to my women, but with Skye? I’m on a whole different level. I feel everything with her.
And I’m disturbed at how much I like it, how much I’m beginning to crave it.
Christopher stops the car in front of my building, and we stay quiet as we walk through the lobby toward my private elevator.
We stay quiet as I slide my card.
We stay quiet as we step into the elevator and it zips up to my penthouse.
We stay quiet, and with every passing microsecond, my need for Skye grows ad infinitum.
The elevator halts, and the doors slide open, revealing my foyer and living area.
We’re hardly through the door when—
“Fuck,” I growl and pin her against the wall beside the entryway, the door still hanging open. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all night. That sexy mouth of yours…and this dress. I ought to rip it off you so no other man can see you in it.”
She trembles. “It’s Tessa’s.”
“Don’t care. I’ll buy her a new one.”
“But I like—”
“Still don’t care.” I crush my mouth to hers, grab one of the straps of her dress, and pull sharply as I thrust my tongue between her lips.
The low screech of the ripping fabric turns me on almost as much as this kiss. It means the dress’s days are numbered. Soon I’ll have a naked Skye in my arms…
She melts into the kiss as I deepen it.
This is a kiss of determination—a kiss of my will over hers—and I groan when I feel her surrender. Surrender to my lips, teeth, and tongue as our mouths slide together. Her heart beats rapidly, so strong that I feel it as we’re mashed together, her body still pinned against the wall.
Th-thump. Th-thump. Th-thump.
Her heart’s cadence matches my own.
I’m rough and merciless as I devour her. I rip the other strap of her dress and push it over her shoulder and then downward, until it’s banded around her waist. I slide my hands up her sides and cup her breasts, and then I pull back, our mouths parting with a pop.
God, a black strapless bra that barely contains her ample tits. Her cheeks and chin pink from the roughness of my stubble against her soft skin. And her lips…
I gaze at her, focusing on those full lips. “I wish you could see your mouth right now, Skye. Your lipstick is smeared, and your lips are swollen and glistening and parted in that slight way that’s all you.” I drop my gaze. “And these tits. Spectacular.”
“Bra,” she says, panting.
“Yeah, fucking sexy. Made for your tits.” In my head are images of the many ways I can relieve her of it, none of them ending with the garment intact.
“Bra,” she says again. “Don’t rip it.”
I ignore her command and rip the black lace off her, freeing her breasts. “I’ll buy you a hundred bras, Skye. A new one for every time I fuck you, just so I can rip it off.”
Her nipples are tight and hard, so ready for my touch. But I don’t touch them. I’m still cupping the rosy flesh of her breasts, still gazing at them.
“Please,” she says.
“Please what?”
“My nipples. Touch them.”
I can’t help a surly smile. “You want me to touch your nipples, Skye?”
“Yes, God. Please.”
I brush my lips against the top of her throat. “How do you want me to touch them, baby?”
“I don’t care. Just touch them. Please.”
“What if I don’t?” I tease. “What will you do?”
She meets my gaze. “I… I’ll leave.”
Interesting choice, and one I’m not expecting.
I don’t like games as a rule, and Skye is definitely playing one. I want to get in her pants more than I want my next breath, but I will remain in charge here. Even if it means blue balls tonight.
I move backward, releasing her breasts. “Go ahead. You’re not obligated to stay here.”
Already I know she’ll renege. She clearly wants me as much as I want her. Her breasts are swollen and her nipples erect. A sheen of perspiration shines on her flesh, and her fragrance. Damn. She’s wet and hot and ready.
No, she doesn’t want to leave. But she’ll claim to, because she doesn’t want to give me the upper hand.
Fuck. Skye Manning. A challenge.
And I love a challenge.
She clears her throat. “Fine. But I’ll need a…shirt or something.”
I glare at her. How far is she willing to take this? Because I will win this battle.
She opens her mouth, but I push her back against the wall, my hands gripping her shoulders. I move toward her slowly until our lips are only millimeters apart. God, I want to close the minute gap and kiss her, slide my tongue between those luscious lips and head into the bedroom. And I know she wants the same.
But I didn’t get where I am today by giving in, and I won’t give in now.
She will.
And she does.
She closes the distance and presses her lips to mine.
I pull back, still gripping her shoulders. “I thought you wanted to leave.”
“I thought you wanted me to leave.”
“When did I say that?” I ask. “You’re the one who brought it up. What kind of a game do you think I’m playing, Skye?”
“I…don’t know.”
“That’s because I’m not playing a game. You may think this is a cat-and-mouse thing, but it’s not. I enjoy making you want me.”
“Braden, you know I want you, but if you ever tell me to leave again, this whole thing is over.”
“Is it?”
She gulps. How far will she truly go? Will she leave just to remain in control?
“I’m afraid so,” she finally says.
I’m hard as a rock. I could so easily whip out my cock, push her against the wall, and shove into her from behind. She’d let me, and God, I want her so badly.
But I release her, walk through the entryway to a closet, and open it. I pull a blue cardigan out, walk back, and hand it to her. “Go ahead, Skye. Leave.”