2. “CAN YOU STAND UP,WILL YOU JUST FALL DOWN?” #6
He stilled for so long she’d once thought the recording had glitched, but the footage was fine. It was Soren who froze.
He threw the shirt over her bare chest. “Knock it off.”
She flung the cotton away. “Maybe I don’t wanna.”
That was when it happened. A split-second shift, nothing more. He meant to catch the shirt, but accidentally grazed her skin and froze. He’d tried to do the right thing, but her confession pushed him beyond his limit. His hand flattened, lingering on her lower belly.
She hummed as her knees fell open in invitation.
His voice dropped to a dry rasp. “This what you want.” He dragged his hand slowly down her thigh, as if challenging her bluff.
“Not quite.”
“I knew it—” Before he could pull away, she caught his hand and pushed it inside her panties. “Jesus, Joce.” He jerked back as if she’d burned him. But the line was crossed.
She hooked her thumbs into the lace and shimmied her panties lower. “Come on, CEO Barbie. Show me what you got.”
His jaw twitched, and he shoved her shoulder to the ground, as if he wanted to strangle her. But he didn’t. He didn’t yell at her either.
Instead, his voice turned raw. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Mm-hm. Very sure—” Her breath hitched as he shoved his finger inside of her, breaching her before she could call back her words. Her lips parted in shock. She still couldn’t believe he actually crossed that line.
Then a slow, wicked grin curled her mouth, and she rolled her hips into his touch as if to say, game on.
He moved quickly, gripping her knee and sliding his touch deeper, amped up by the challenge in her eye. Back arching off the floor, she looked up at him in stunned shock as he took total command.
Even now, after all the times she watched this footage, his aggressive authority over her body stunned her. She might have initiated it, but the moment he took control, he owned every breath and demanded her surrender with merciless expectation.
No man had ever touched her so ruthlessly. This wasn’t the Soren she’d grown up with. This was a stranger, teaching her things about her body she’d never realized on her own. Things no other man had ever come close to making her feel.
“Hear how wet you are?” Her lips parted on another startled gasp as he unapologetically fed his fingers into her, there on the hall floor. “Those are my fingers fucking you, Jocelyn.”
She caught his wrist, but when he twisted his touch pressing deep, she relinquished all control.
“Arms over your head. I’m in charge now.” She obeyed like a well-trained collie, despite never suffering a submissive urge in her life.
“I should---” Her threat cut off as she moaned, his fingers now fully wedged inside of her.
“You aren’t going to do anything but lay there and take it. You started this.” He pressed his palm flat on her lower belly.
He moved quickly, working her body with practiced precision that stunned her. Gasps and moans collided in a rapid collision of cascading pleasure. Any control she’d assumed she’d had was efficiently stolen from her with one talented flick of his wrist.
“Play with your tits.”
She groped her breasts as he fucked his fingers into her faster, rocking her body on the floor, applying pressure where he splayed a flat palm across her lower belly. He tore the panties away, spreading her legs open so he had full access.
It was clear he knew how to touch a woman. When she cried out, coming hard on his hand, arching against the carpet as she pinched her nipples into tight peaks, his touch turned demanding and all-possessive. “That’s it.”
He didn’t relent. He forced her to take more and more until she was screaming through her release.
“Such a mess,” he said with a snicker, rubbing her arousal into his glistening fingers.
He’d destroyed her, and he was still fully dressed, still wearing his scarf and coat. It was possibly the sexiest contradiction she’d ever experienced, his controlled restraint colliding with her wanton abandon.
She panted through a laugh. “Well, I guess we finally found something you’re good at.”
He smacked the back of her thigh. “Brat.”
She laughed and stretched her arms over her head. Soren stood and reached out a hand to help her up. Jocelyn took his hand, but only sat up, not rising past her knees.
“What are you doing?”
“Fair is fair, Lord Fancy Pants. I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”
Something flashed in his eyes, but no matter how many times she rolled the footage back and paused, she still couldn’t decipher what that look meant.
He tilted his head. “Tit for tat?”
“More like tit for cock.”
“Don’t tease me, Jocelyn.”
Teasing was the only way they communicated. “I’m not teasing.”
He stepped forward, grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking her head back so she looked up at him. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
Even now, his words did something to her. “You’re the one rambling, Chatty Cath—”
“Take my cock out.”
“All right, Prince Prada—” Her words cut off as he stepped closer, his broad build and his long wool coat blocking the camera’s view.
“Enough talking.” His stance widened, and his hips rocked forward as his head tipped back and he released a long groan. “That’s it. Put that smart mouth to use. Take it deep. Deeper, Jocelyn. Take all of it.” His shoulders rolled as his hips thrust. “Just like that. Fuck.”