Chapter 5
Dean wanted to put his hands and his mouth on her, but she’d withdrawn her hand from around his cock and stood without touching him.
This moment was a tipping point, one of many if things worked out.
He could have eased into telling her that he expected her submission.
After they’d been on a few dates and had had sex a few times, she’d have been emotionally invested and he’d have built some trust. Easier all around.
Instead, he’d let his instincts drive him, his instinct to dominate her and to have her on his own terms. So he held himself in check now, to prove to her that he could.
He’d seen the stories she had on her tablet. There were enough of a certain type of romantic novel, ones featuring domination and discipline, to let him know she must at least be intrigued by the idea.
She looked up at him with blue-green eyes made darker by the low light in the room.
The silence stretched between them. He put his hands on the dresser on either side of her, his body close enough to feel the heat of hers.
Crowding her and keeping her trapped in the cage of his arms was strategic.
She hadn’t tried to escape immediately after he’d spoken, which told him what he needed to know.
Now he’d make it harder for her to get away, harder for her head to veto what her body wanted.
“You might think that because I’ve read some stories…” She trailed off, halted, then said softly, “But reading about things is different than doing them.”
“You’re right.”
She stared up at him. He put his hands on her hips and lifted her onto the dresser. It startled her, and she’d grabbed his arms to steady herself, though she didn’t need to. Now she sat on the dresser top, her hands still gripping his arms.
He rested a hand on each of her thighs and pushed them apart, moving forward to stand between them, bringing his erection into contact with her soft lower lips.
There was fabric between them, but it was thin and provided no real barrier to her feeling him there.
His cock jerked, impatient for him to put it where it really wanted to be. He held the line against that urge.
He kissed her. Her hands slid up to his shoulders. He snaked an arm around her back and brought her up against him. He wanted her out of her sweater and bra. He wanted those magnificent breasts pressed against his chest.
He knew the key to getting what he wanted was to make her want him.
He didn’t have to overpower her…that would come later when she trusted him more.
All he had to do right now was to flex his muscles when she touched him and show her he could lift her onto the dresser without breaking a sweat.
All he had to do was let her feel his hard cock and how much he wanted her.
Whatever reservations she might have about the things he’d said, thousands of years of primal instincts would trump them.
Her body was on his side. It wanted to be taken.
Meghan had never been desperate to go to bed with anyone…until now. Her mind unraveled at the way Dean kissed her, slow and deep, with one warm hand on the back of her neck so she couldn’t have escaped if she’d wanted to. Which she didn’t.
When he finally stood back and looked at her with his dark brown eyes that could hold her gaze prisoner, he asked, “Why are you still dressed?”
“I was busy,” she said, trying to catch her breath, “kissing you.”
The corner of his mouth rose into a hint of a smile. “Excuses will get you in trouble, Meghan.”
“I can’t be in trouble for what was clearly your fault,” she teased, with a small smile playing at her mouth.
“Am I kissing you now?”
“No.”
“Are you dressed?”
She swallowed. “We’re still negotiating how the undressing will occur.”
Dean ran his thumb over her bottom lip. Meghan’s tongue was really tempted to lick that thumb and more of him.
“You have a really beautiful mouth. I enjoyed kissing it.” He took a step back and adjusted himself into his pants. Then he zipped and buttoned them. He grabbed his shirt from where he’d dropped it on the floor and strode out of the bedroom.
“Wait, what?” she mumbled. She hopped down from the dresser and grabbed her skirt, pulling it up and hurrying out of the room after him.
He had his shirt on and was retrieving his keys from the counter.
“What are you doing? You’re leaving?”
He nodded.
“Because I didn’t do what you wanted?”
He nodded.
“That’s really not fair,” she said, following him across the living room.
“Then I guess you’ll be lucky to be rid of me.”
“I thought we’d talk and decide together—”
He shook his head. “The only thing I’ll ever be interested in negotiating are the terms of your surrender.”
“Isn’t that the phrasing that’s used in war? Are we at war?” she demanded.
He caught her and pinned her between him and the wall. It happened so fast she hardly had time to utter a gasp of protest.
“War’s a little strong, but it is a battle of sorts. Who do you think is going to win?”
“No one if you’re going home.”
He smiled that beautiful smile of his. “Agreed.”
“We could go back to the bedroom and both get undressed.”
“It’s too late for that.”
“No, it isn’t. At least one part of you doesn’t think so.”
“You’re not ready for me to come back to your bedroom.”
“I disagree. I’m very ready for that.”
“Bad behavior has consequences. That’s what you’re not ready for.”
The blush began on her face and spread downward. “I—it’s our very first date. And I’m not a football player who is used to walking around a locker room naked. Surely, it’s not unreasonable for me to be a little shy or self conscious or whatever you’d like to call it.”
“If you’d done what I told you to do, you wouldn’t have had time to feel self conscious for long because I would’ve made sure you were too busy feeling something else. Now you’ve got two choices. You can offer to atone, or you can kiss me goodnight.”
To atone? she thought wildly. Her nipples tightened, and her belly clenched. But no, it was ridiculous and surreal to even think about letting him do whatever he wanted.
She slid her hands up to his biceps, feeling the very large, very solid muscles. There was no way she wanted those arms doing anything violent to her backside.
“All right,” she whispered. She brushed her lips over his and dropped her hands to her sides. “Goodnight, Dean.”