His eyes roam down my body in a lustful sweep, and it’s all I can do to hide my involuntary shiver.
“Okay,” he grits out, jaw ticking. “I’ll go again. I didn’t realize I was a jealous man…until tonight. I have you to thank for that.”
He crowds me against the door as I battle the instinct to pull him closer, his scent invading as my arousal spikes immeasurably while his words crash through me.
“Have you let anyone touch you, Beauty?” He lowers a hand before tracing his fingertips along the fabric at my stomach. Panting, I sink against the feel of his touch as his eyes light in satisfaction. “Thought so.”
Keeping my eyes, he releases the sterling silver buckle I picked out for him hours earlier, the clank ringing in my ears as my panties flood. “Did you like watching LL get his cock sucked?”
His question has my eyes bulging as his own gaze begins to rapidly heat.
Briefly, I lower mine to see the buckle release is as far as he went. Disappointment seeps into me, my need for him gripping me by the throat.
“You think I didn’t see you scanning that party for me every time you got turned on?”
The path of his finger trails down my neck before he sweeps it lightly along the cut of my dress, tracing the swell of my breasts. My chest heaves as he lowers it to circle my hardened nipple through the thin material before his molten gaze flicks back to mine. I manage a swallow as he presses in, dipping his finger to trace the thin, delicate chain running along my waist. “Easton—”
“Did you like watching, Beauty?” He abruptly pulls his finger away, and I flinch at his sudden withdrawal. “Answer me, Natalie.”
“Yes and no,” I say, my eyes again dropping to his dangling buckle.
“Look at me,” he snaps. “Why?”
“Because…I don’t want him.”
“Who do you want?”
“Easton, if we do this—”
“I know, baby, I know,” he says, pressing his forehead against mine as if he’s trying to both mentally and physically rid me of my position against us. “Jesus Christ, I heard you, I hear you, but I won’t let this go. I fucking won’t as long as you’re with me, and I know you don’t want me to, either.” Unbuttoning his jeans, he takes one of my hands and guides it into his boxers. Instinctively, I grip his impressive length. A moan escapes me as his thick cock twitches in my palm.
Blinding need surges through me, attempting a takeover as I note the set in his jaw and the desire pooling in his eyes. Before I realize it, I’m lowering to my knees and gripping his boxers to feast. Because he’s worthy. Because he’s my fantasy turned beautiful reality. Because I want him so fucking much, the ache is unbearable.
Gathering my hair in his fist, he tightens his grip and tugs so I’m forced to look up at him. “Is this what you wanted when you were looking for me?”
Leaning forward, I lick along the fat head jutting out of the top of his boxers, my fingers hooking on the hem to lower them. His grip on me tightens as he pulls me away, refusing access.
“We can have tonight,” I offer softly, gazing up at him.
“Admit it,” he grits out, jerking himself further out of reach as I attempt to take him into my mouth again. “Admit it. Goddamnit,” he grits out in heady demand. When I refuse, he yanks me up by my arms. “Admit it, Beauty,” he cups my cheek, his eyes searching, imploring. “Please just fucking admit it.”
“I can’t,” I whisper, the apology in it unmistakable.
Eyes flaring with renewed anger, he lowers to his own knees while slowly pushing my dress up to my hips to reveal my silky white thong. Palming my thighs apart, he presses his forehead to my navel in obvious frustration as his fingers ghost up between my thighs. He skims the fabric at the apex before moving the material to the side and running his index finger through my center.
“Jesus.” He grazes my clit with the pad of his finger, and my legs start to give as he anchors me between himself and the door.
Nostrils flaring, he gazes up, adding another finger and crooking them in beckoning. A cry escapes me as muted satisfaction flares in his eyes. He’s declaring war, and I’ve allowed him to corner me, knowing this can’t go in any other direction than the way we both want it to—but on his terms. I’ve already waved my white flag for tonight, but he won’t be satisfied until I’ve voiced it aloud, and in a more permanent way that may damn well ruin me.
“God, I want to fucking punish you,” he rasps out, hastening his fingers as another moan escapes me. His eyes snap up. “Don’t moan like that, baby. That’s my one and only fucking warning,” his threat carries a dark edge, which only fuels me. In the next second, he fists the crotch of my panties and yanks, ripping them down mid-thigh until they give and fall. The ruined remains slide easily down my legs before they pool at my stilettos. Another moan escapes me as a wicked smile curves his lush lips.