Home > Books > Gleam (The Plated Prisoner, #3)(120)

Gleam (The Plated Prisoner, #3)(120)

Author:Raven Kennedy

His lips quirk up when he sees my long hair hanging perfectly down in the front to cover my breasts. “Tease.”

“I’m only following directions,” I say with an impish grin.

Movement on the floor has both of us looking down at the same time where we see my ribbons trying to slither closer to Slade.

“Now these, on the other hand, seem to be quite brazen,” he says, sounding entirely too pleased about that.

I give them a tug. “They’re just trying to get closer to the fire.”

“Liar.” With a smirk, he tips his head. “Come here.”

My eyes narrow. “Slade.”

“I won’t touch your skin, I promise. Put your foot right here,” he says, widening his legs and tapping the spot between.

A hard swallow travels down my throat when my gaze drops down to the very visible bulge in his pants. Walking forward, I carefully lift my foot and brace it on the edge of his chair, right between his muscled thighs.

There’s a slow drag of his gaze that goes up the entire length of my leg. Slade hums, and the noise seems to settle right in my core, making it pulse. “You are the most stunning female I have ever seen.”

His compliment sends butterflies fluttering past the crevices of my chest. I don’t look away from his face when he lazily trails my every curve as if he’s taking his time to see every part of me. I have the sudden urge to reach down and thread my hands through his hair, so I hold them behind me instead, my fingers tangling into the base of my ribbons.

With my foot propped up like this, Slade has the perfect view of, well, everything. I suck in a breath at just how intimate this is, and he looks up at me with a glint in his eye.

We’re so incredibly close, and even though my lace panties cover me, and my hair hangs over my breasts, I still feel so exposed. In the firelight, my skin gleams, the tight weave of my stockings glistening.

“Don’t move,” he tells me, and then his hands come down to the laces of my boots.

Transfixed, I watch his deft fingers untie the knot and then begin to meticulously loosen the ties. When he’s slackened them all, he gives my boot a tap, and I carefully switch legs until my right foot is propped up. He does the same thing to that foot, and then he looks up at me again.

“There,” he says quietly.

Setting my foot down on the floor, I back up and slip out of my boots, and then I back up a few more steps, putting some safe space between us before one of us pounces on the other.

“Go sit on my bed.”

I shake my head. “I’ll gild it.”

“I don’t care,” he says roughly.

“I do. The servants will see.”

“They’re not allowed in here.”

Looking around at the messy space, I smirk. “Maybe they should be.”

His lips twitch. “The bed, Auren.”

Great Divine, the way he says that. The command sparking through his tone is ravenous, impatient, dominant. Like he’s been waiting for me all this time, and he’s ready for the clash. The lascivious need inside of me craves it, wants to see just how hungry I can make him.

“Hmm, I think I’ll stay right here,” I tease. My tone is flippant, though I have to work not to let a smile out.

I’m careful to stay next to the wall, letting only the back of my head rest against it, my hair covering my skin enough not to gild anything. Then, with a boldness I didn’t know I possessed, I let my fingers play against my collarbone, then a slow stroke down between my breasts.

A low, rumbling growl escapes him.

He brings one hand up to run a thumb over his plush bottom lip, and my gaze follows the movement, wondering what it would feel like if it were my lip he was touching like that.

“Lower.”

His gruff command makes me press my legs together, trying to feed into the sudden need for friction.

With my eyes locked on his, I let my fingers trail down slowly between my breasts in a leisurely scrawl. I drop beneath to the curves of them, my hair moving in the slightest ripple of tantalizing tease without revealing anything beneath.

“Lower,” he says again, and my nipples pebble.

I let my touch drag down to my stomach, circle over my belly button, and then pause just above my panty line. Slade leans back and tips his hips up slightly to adjust himself in his seat, and I don’t know what it is about the move, but it sends a rush of heat between my legs.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

I steal a look at the length that seems to have grown between his legs. “I think I have some idea.”