Her Secret Thrill

He smiled. “Because I asked nicely?”

Her thighs trembled a bit. Hadn’t she fantasized about him calling the shots? The very idea made her even wetter. If possible. She felt her inner muscles clench hard as she turned and walked away from him across the room to a high-backed, Victorian-looking chair.

“Turn around.”

She did. Very slowly. She didn’t smile, nor did she look cool. She simply did as he asked until she faced him again. Then she waited.

“You are stunning.”

Now she smiled. Felt her skin heat.

“Don’t believe me? Turn to your right.”

She did, and gasped. There was a full-length oval mirror tucked in the corner between the dresser and the chair.

“Look at yourself, Natalie.”

She couldn’t not. She looked…ripe. And those black, razor-sharp heels were downright sex on stilts. She’d always thought herself passably attractive, basic beauty but no frills. Only, right now…dear God.

“Know what I see?” He moved behind her, so she could see him in the mirror. His body was wider than hers, taller than hers. He framed her entirely. His skin was darker, his look wilder, rougher. He made her look all the more refined, yet she didn’t feel fragile.

He reached through her arms and gently cupped her breasts. She exhaled on a sharp gasp of pleasure, her knees giving slightly at the hot rush his touch set off.

“I see nipples that stand out for my attention.” He slowly rubbed his thumbs over them, eliciting a moan from her she couldn’t contain. She whimpered when his hands slid away, but moaned again as his flat palms smoothed over her abdomen, then spread downward.

She trembled hard as his fingertips brushed at the dark, downy curls at the apex of her thighs.

“I want to see what you have waiting for me here, Natalie,” he said, his lips against the side of her neck.

It was impossibly arousing. She wanted to move his fingers lower, push them inside her. She stepped back, needing to feel his body touching hers, needing more than just his palms on her stomach, his fingers brushing her.

But he stepped back, then moved in front of her. He turned to face the mirror, almost entirely blocking her from view. “Turnabout is fair play, right?”

The muscles between her legs were tied in a knot of pleasure so tight she wanted to scream with the need to untie it. But she looked at him in the mirror and knew she wanted this even more.

She stood just to the side of him and pressed her hands to his hips, then slid his briefs all the way down his legs to the floor. She was almost kneeling. She placed her hands just above his knees, then slowly dragged them upward as she stood again. He gasped this time as she slid her fingers around his pelvis, almost brushing against his jutting erection…but not quite.

“Do you know what I see?”

“What?” The word sounded as if it had been ripped from him.

She looked to his face, which stood in chiseled relief as he clenched his jaw, straining for control.

“I see a man who can fill me like I’ve never been filled before.”

He groaned but kept his hands at his side.

She remembered that moment in the elevator, when she’d fantasized about him stroking himself. She wanted to ask him to do it, even just once. She wanted to see his strong hand circle himself. He was so thick and rigid, and there was something so primal— But she couldn’t.

“What is it, Natalie?”

Damn the man for being so focused. “Nothing. I—”

“Tell me.” This time it was a command.

“I—I wondered what it would look like if you—” She darted her gaze from his in the mirror, downward…then back up again. She couldn’t say it, so she showed him. She took his hand. Hers was shaking. And she moved it across his thigh…and upward. “I’ve never— I wanted to see what—”

And then he wrapped his big, wide hand around himself and stroked all the way to the tip and back again. “Is that what you wanted to see?”

She was panting. “Yes,” she gasped. “God.”

“Would you like to?”

She shook her head, but what she said was “Yes.”

He took her hand and wrapped it around him. Again her knees buckled. He felt so intensely hard, and yet his skin was like velvet. Tightly ridged with veins that twitched beneath her touch. He groaned deep and long, as she slowly moved her hand down the full length of him.

Dear Lord, how she wanted to take him!

“Stop.” The command was harsh and hoarsely spoken.

She dropped her hand. “I’m sorry.”

He turned to her. “We were both going to be really sorry there in a second.”

Amazingly, she smiled, even laughed. “Then, thank you for stopping me.”

“I didn’t want to.” His gaze darkened. “Damn but you feel good on me, Natalie.”

She swallowed. He was truly overwhelming to her in every way. It was a very heady thing to know she could affect him like this, too. It was that realization that gave her the boldness to look up at him and say, “I want to know how good you’ll feel in me, Jake.” She turned fully toward him so the tip of his erection brushed her belly. “Right now.”

4

JAKE HAD NO IDEA what he’d done to deserve this day, but he damn well wanted to find out so he could do it again.

Natalie was like no other woman he’d ever met. She was intelligent, witty, sharp and absolutely sexy. But she was also somewhat shy, or at least private. Definitely reserved when it came to sex. And yet she wanted so badly not to be. He was more than glad to help her out. In fact, it stunned him just what emotions and urges she brought out in him.

He had always firmly believed in seeing to his partner’s pleasure as well as to his own. But something about Natalie brought out twin urges to protect…and to dominate. He wasn’t all that surprised at the former. But the latter shocked him. He was definitely not that guy. And yet he’d never felt more natural than when he told her to walk across that room. Yes, he’d sensed she wanted direction, wanted to be absolved, at least a tiny bit, of the pressure of being in control.

But nothing had prepared him for the rush it had given him when she’d complied. Maybe it was because she’d done so with her head high. No meekness, definitely no submissiveness. It hadn’t been about domination or even control. It had been…primal. Visceral. This need to push her. Push her toward discovering her own pleasure…and toward discovering his. Maybe it was because he knew she’d push back.

And the idea of that happening rocked him even harder.

“Now?” he answered her command. And yes, it had been a command. He had never been one for that, either, never desired women who almost liked to punish men for giving them pleasure. But this command, it was about mutual pleasure. He could definitely identify with that.

And maybe that was the real thrill here. That they would push and shove, command and demand the absolute greatest degree of pleasure from one another.

He grinned down at her, hoping they both survived the onslaught. She squealed when he suddenly stooped and scooped her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest. “Bed or wall?”