Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lyra
If I were smart, I’d say no.
I’m already in deep with Stryker. Deep? Another underestimation. My intuition is screaming at me. I’m in too deep.
The smarter version of me would suggest another card game. Maybe rummy. But when it comes to this man, the cautious me is nowhere to be found.
I want to experience everything he has to offer. The memories will be something to hold onto when we’re separated by miles.
Trembling with anticipation, desperate to know what he’s got in mind, I nod.
A soft, slow smile crosses his features, transforming the hard edges, taking years off his age. “That’s my girl.”
His girl.
A part of me wishes that were true.
But for now, in this moment if not forever, I can pretend.
The way he looks at me unnerves me.
Outside, the storm is raging like a beast clawing at the windows, but heat from his words wraps around me. And there’s no place I’d rather be.
Stryker spreads a thick blanket across the floor near the hearth, smoothing it, each motion deliberate.
Wishing I knew what he has planned, I wait.
Nearby, the flames crackle and pop, casting flickering shadows that dance across his face. My pulse quickens, becoming a frantic rhythm that matches the wind’s howl.
Then he sinks back onto the couch and crosses one ankle over his opposite knee.
His body is relaxed, but his eyes are locked on mine, dark and intense, pulling me into their depths.
“Please take off your shoes and then stand in the middle of the blanket.”
I hesitate for a moment.
Last night, when he had me mirror him, he stood next to me, with me every step of the way.
Now he wants me to be separated from him. I think this is much worse. I hadn’t realized how much of a comfort his proximity was.
“You always have a safe word.”
Even though I appreciate the reminder, I don’t need it. At least not yet.
“If you need anything from me, all you have to do is ask.”
I exhale a shaky breath.
“If not, please do as you’re told, Allie.”
His voice is stern, maybe even a bit dominant. It’s not one I’ve heard from him before, and it unnerves me.
In that confounding way of his, he raises an eyebrow. “Allie?”
Since my voice has deserted me, I settle for nodding.
I bend to untie my shoes, my hands shaking as I pull them off, then my socks, each movement slow, deliberate. I suspect I know what’s coming, and I have to fight off the urge to run and hide.
When I can’t stall any longer, I move to the center of the blanket and face him.
“If you were my submissive…”
I look at him.
“This is how we’d begin many scenes. You, stripping for me, baring everything—your body, your trust. Will you do that for me, Allie? Will you let me see all of you?”
My breath freezes in my chest.
With his infinite patience, he waits.
Finally, with trembling hands, I grip the hem of my shirt. The word submissive lingers in the air, unfamiliar yet intoxicating, like a promise of something I’ve never dared to want.
I hesitate, my heart pounding so hard I feel it in my throat, but the fire’s warmth seeps into my skin, and his gaze—patient, encouraging, unyielding—urges me forward.
I lift the shirt slowly, the fabric brushing over my ribs, my breasts, until I pull it over my head and let it drop to the floor.
“That’s it.” His voice is rumbly and firm, and it resonates deep inside me. “Keep going.”
I fumble with my bra clasp, nerves making me clumsy, but I manage to undo it, letting the straps slide down my arms.
The garment falls away, and I stand topless, my cheeks burning as a blush spreads across my chest. The air kisses my bare skin, tightening my nipples.
He allows his gaze to roam over me, hungry yet controlled, and I feel more exposed than I ever have, my skin prickling with goose bumps despite the fire’s heat.
“You’re so beautiful.”
His words sink into me, warming me from within.
My pants are next, and I wiggle them over my hips and down my legs.
“Keep going.”
With a steadying sigh, I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my panties.
His eyes never waver as I push my underwear down and then step free of them.
Finally I’m standing in front of him, totally naked.
“That’s it. Such a good girl.”
My arms are all but twitching at my sides as I fight the urge to cover myself.
But under his careful scrutiny, my clit begins to throb. I’m wet, and the terrible realization makes my blush deepen.
“Present your breasts to me.” His tone brooks no argument.
“I…” I clench my hands at my sides. “Not quite sure what you mean.”
“Cup your breasts and lift them toward me. As if you’re begging for my attention.”
I swallow hard.
I was prepared for this to be difficult, but this is so much more. He’s asking things from me that are demolishing my inhibitions.
He nods encouragingly, and I do as he wishes, cupping my breasts and lifting them, as if in offering.
My face burns, the heat spreading down my neck, but his eyes light up with approval, and that anchors me.
“Now I want you to roll your nipples between your thumbs and forefingers. Make them hard. Show me every reaction.”
Having him sit there, issuing instructions, is difficult and simultaneously the most natural thing in the world.
For a moment, I hesitate, but he whispers my name, giving me courage.
I move my fingers. At first I circle the sensitive peaks. Then I pinch, rolling them harder. The sensation shoots straight through me. My pussy clenches, and I’m slick with desire.
“Don’t hold back.” His voice is firm but warm. “I want to hear every tiny little sound you make.”
I pinch harder, and the pressure makes me gasp. I tip my head back momentarily, spilling my hair down my spine like a curtain.
“Keep it up.”
My lips part as I sway toward him.
My nipples throb, not just from my touch but from the way he’s watching me, his gaze filled with want.
My knees wobble, but I somehow manage to stay upright, even though I’m lost in the intensity of his attention.
“Stop what you’re doing.”
The order surprises me, making me blink.
Shockingly I don’t want to obey.
“Do as you’re told.” He growls, low and deep in his throat. “Or pay the consequences.”
Jolted by the hint of a threat, I immediately comply.
“Good girl. That’s better.”
His words are soothing, helping me relax a little. His effect on me is almost scary. In such a short time, I’ve learned that I could mainline his approval.
“Now trail your fingers down your body. Slowly, feeling your skin, savoring the experience.”
That’s such a foreign idea to me.
“Stop just above your pubic bone.”
I obey, shaking a little as I glide over my rib cage, my stomach. Shockingly my skin is hypersensitive as every nerve awakens.
I stop where he says, my fingers hovering, my breath shallow and ragged. The anticipation he creates is a living thing. And my clit is pulsing.
“Spread your legs wider.” He waits while I comply. “Now bring your hips forward just a little. Show me your pussy.”
My heart misses its next beat, but I part my thighs, tilting my hips. The position opens me completely. It feels raw, vulnerable, and yet the way he leans forward slightly, his eyes devouring me, makes it thrilling.
“Part your labia.”
I suck in a breath, but he doesn’t relent.
“Let me see all of you.”
Am I really going to do this?