Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
I don’t bother responding. I scoop up the glasses, one in each hand, and take a sip of the whisky mixed with bitters, a dash of sugar, water, and orange peel. I chose to leave the cherry out, not wanting the extra dose of sweetness at this time.
“Cory, where are you?” I ask, heading down the hall toward the bedrooms. She could be in the home office, the spare bedroom which she said will be her arts and crafts room at some point in time, the other guest bedroom that has a bed, nightstand, and dresser, or the hall bathroom.
“Closet!” I hear her call the closer I make it into the master bedroom, dropping our drinks on the nearest available surface, and finally find her. She doesn’t turn around, instead, I’m greeted with her hopelessly trapped, her arms contorted behind her back as she fights a losing battle with the fabric of her dress. The zipper is jammed halfway down her spine, leaving her exposed and frustrated. My cock is rock hard, and I didn’t think it was possible to get any harder than when she slid her hand to my thigh without me guiding her. “Dom, thank god. I’m stuck, like honest to goodness stuck. I might need you to rip this off of me.” She breathes with an edge of annoyance.
“Well, if anyone is going to rip clothes off you, sweetheart, it’s going to be me.” The teasing remark rolls off my tongue, and I hear the sharp breath Cory takes. The closet’s warm, recessed lighting catches on the curve of her bare shoulder, her long hair is pinned up, exposing the length of her neck, and her cheeks are red, probably from her struggle. Bright eyes look back at me, her hands drop to her side, and she gives up.
“Please.” The whispered request has me crossing the threshold into the closet. My hands fly to my collar, and with a fluid, practiced motion, I pull at my silk tie, loosening it and undoing the top button of my shirt with one impatient tug.
“Hold still.” The space between us vanishes. I step behind her, my heat radiating through the sliver of distance remaining. “And what’s going to happen once I get you out of this?” I murmur, my voice deeper and rougher than it was moments ago. My hand reaches out, steadying her hip, while my other takes ahold of the delicate metal pull.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Methodically.
I drag the rasp of her zipper down. The low, sharp sound echoes in the quiet closet. As the fabric parts, the back of my knuckles and tip of my finger glide along the milky bare skin of her spine. A shiver races through her, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. I pause, waiting to see what happens next, and my eyes darken as I watch as her breathing tremble in the mirror when she lets her dress fall to the ground.
“This.” My teeth sink into my lower lip, my nostrils flare, and my chest pounds. She’s there in the mirror, without a stitch of clothing save for a scrap of black lace that clings to her hips and black stilettos that arch her spine and do amazing things to her legs.
I’ve negotiated multi-billion-dollar deals without a flicker of hesitation, yet the sight of Cory Pierson completely undoes me.
My eyes sweep over her with a possessive hunger. Her body is a masterpiece of soft curves. I track the slope of her shoulders down to the narrow indentation of her waist and the lush, rounded flare of her hips. The sheer lace of her panties offers a hint at the shadow that lies beneath. She’s bare. My mouth waters at the thought of getting between her thighs. The tempting curve of her ass has me grunting, and my grip moves from her hips to around her lower abdomen. The tips of my fingers are right at the edge of her panties.
“I knew you’d be beautiful.” Seeing her like this, vulnerable, breathless, and looking at me through the reflection with wide, dark eyes, makes me only want her more.
“Dom.” Her head tips back, landing on my shoulder, and eyes close. I dip inside. I should have thought better of this, as in shed my jacket, lose my shirt, undershirt, belt, and all the rest of the shit.
“Hands on the mirror, sweetheart. You’re going to need it for what I’m about to do to you.” She doesn’t listen at first, too involved in feeling where my fingers are. I pull away, taking her hands in mine before pressing them against the cool glass. I step closer, still fully dressed from our dinner tonight. The contrast between us only makes it hotter.
“Dom, please, I ache.” I keep one hand on top of hers. The other goes slides to the edge of her panties, feeling her heat roll off her in waves.