“As much as I want it? Can you feel how much I want it?” he said, making absolutely certain she could feel every damn inch of his erection jammed against her back.
“I can feel it. I want it too, Nate,” she said, arching into his hand, hunting for more friction, more speed. He couldn’t resist. He wanted to tease her, but her pussy was too ready, too perfect. The feel of her heat in his hands was some kind of drug. It scrambled his brain.
“You wanted me to make you beg for it,” he said, trying to hold onto her wishes from earlier. “You wanted me to send you to the brink, but not over, right?”
“Oh God, no, please,” she cried out, her voice pitching. “Don’t tease me, Nate. I’m close. I’m so close.”
He met her eyes in the mirror. They were wild and hungry. She thrust her hips against his hand, riding his finger as she held tight to the back of his neck, offering herself to him so completely.
“Don’t you want me to drive you wild with desire?”
“You have,” she cried out, riding his hand as far and as hard as she could, writhing against him, a wriggly, wild creature in his arms. “You are. I’m going crazy. Please don’t make me wait,” she said, then repeated it, like a desperate chant, a plea for relief. “Please don’t make me wait. Please don’t make me wait.”
He held on tight to her belly, slamming her as close to him as the laws of physics made it possible for two clothed people to be. He stroked her faster, thrusting a finger inside her beautiful cunt, as he said, “Never. I could never deny you. Come, sweetness. Come in my arms. I’ve got you,” he said, and she cried out, rocking harder, faster and more beautifully than ever as she rode his hand, coming undone for him at Sotheby’s.
Minutes later, after hands were washed and clothes were straightened, they returned to the sales room. Casey stopped in her tracks, and pointed, then clasped her hand over her mouth. The man with the slick hair and pinstriped suit grinned as if he’d caught a huge marlin.
“And The Big Love is sold for six thousand pounds.”
The auctioneer pounded the podium with his hammer.
She cringed. All her features tightened, and she clenched her fists in utter frustration. “I wanted it,” she said on a heavy sigh. “I wanted it so badly.”
He wished he could steal it away for her. But the painting was no longer on the market.
She turned to him, grabbed the lapels of his jacket, and said, “Win some, lose some. Take me back to our room and do that to me again and again all night long.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
London, night . . .
There was no more time for waiting. There would be no more teasing. Her dress pooled at her feet less than five seconds after entering their suite.
“I’m not anywhere near done with you,” he said, unknotting his tie, yanking it off, and tossing it on the floor. That answered one question that had hovered in her mind—he wouldn’t be tying her up with his tie tonight.
She stepped out of her shoes. She wore only her lingerie.
“I want you on the floor,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his strong, hard chest. Her mouth watered as she stepped backward.
“Is this another lesson?” she asked, her voice wobbly as she flashed back to the first night in New Orleans when he’d told her to get down on her knees.
He shook his head. “I’m done with teaching you. There are no more lessons. Did you want more?”
“No. I only want you,” she said in a small voice, somehow managing to admit that she was ready to move on. Where they were headed next she had no idea. This might be their last night together, until he cut her loose, adrift in the world as a newly-trained woman who’d learned how to let go of all her tightly held need for control. She shuddered inside at the thought of this ending, but then pushed all the worries out of her mind as he reached the final button on his shirt.
“Good. Because I’m about to do something you’ve wanted. Something you asked me to do. But I’m not doing it as your teacher. I’m doing it tonight as your lover.”
“That’s who I want you to be now,” she said, and the words were easier than she’d expected, so much easier, because they were so damn true.
He swallowed. She watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. Such a vulnerable point on an otherwise hard body. So much of him was hard and fierce, but so much was vulnerable too. He’d begun to show more of those sides to her, and she thrived on knowing all of him—all his passion, all his pain, all his hurt, all his hope.
All of him.
“Take everything off,” he said.
She stepped out of her black lace panties, grateful to be rid of the damp scrap of fabric, then her bra, leaving them in a soft heap on the plush carpet. He groaned at the sight of her, and a ribbon of heat unfurled in her chest—to be this desired was such a rush, such a pure, unmitigated high. She had never felt so sensual as she did under Nate’s heady gaze. The low neon lighting in the room set the mood, though the mood had technically been set long ago. Back in New Orleans one hot steamy night when she’d propositioned her best friend, and he’d said yes. They’d hurdled down this sensual road through the Big Easy, to their hometown of New York, and now, here in London.
Only this time, they were shedding the seduction. They were stripped free of games, and relying solely on themselves.
She didn’t want it any other way.
She didn’t want him any other way.
He grabbed a chair and dragged it over to her, swiveling it around so the slats faced her. “Hands on the chair. Grip it hard.”
She kneeled before him, knotting her fingers through the wooden slats, like she was in church at a pew, praying—praying for release. A quiver sped through her body, chased with a dash of fear. But it was the good fear; the kind that twisted and curled hotly through her blood as he led her down this path. She didn’t know what he planned, but she loved exploring the unknown with him.
Only with him.
He walked behind her, gently covering her hair with his big, strong hand palming her head. She craned her neck, peering up at him. He dragged his hand down her hair, threading his fingers through the blond strands.
“When you first asked me to teach you to let go, I agreed, even though it meant you were learning things to use with someone else. Right now, there’s no teaching. I’m only taking. I’m taking something I want for me,” he said, and the roughness in his voice sent shivers on a thrill ride down her spine as he shrugged out of his white shirt. He widened his stance, a foot on each side of her naked legs. She felt overpowered, thoroughly under his control as electric sparks shot across her skin.