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“Gordon? Did you forget something?”
“Yes.” He rested a hand on the molding. “Let me in.”
She nodded once, shut the door, and then opened it all the way. She wore a light teal, sheer nightgown that hit her knees, and a lightweight robe. Watching him through wide eyes, she hugged it closed as he shut the door. “What did you forget?”
“This.” He curled his hand around the back of her neck. “You.”
He hauled her close, and she let out a spurt of air. “But—”
“Did you fuck him?” he asked, his fingers tight on her robe.
“What?” She shook her head. “No. Of course not.”
Lifting her left hand, he checked out her ring finger. It was still bare. “Did you tell him you’d marry him?”
“No. He hasn’t asked, and I still haven’t decided—”
“Then I don’t give a damn about him anymore.” He ran his hands up to her shoulders, gently brushing her robe off. It hit the floor at her feet without a sound. “Until he claims you as his in every way? You’re mine. All. Fucking. Mine. Say it.”
She bit her lower lip. “I’m yours. Only yours.”
Bending his head, he kissed her, putting all his frustrations into that simple touching of their lips. She was his tonight, and that’s all that mattered. He backed her toward the couch, his lips never breaking contact with hers. She undid his shirt as they moved, her tongue curling around his as she undid each button.
When the back of her knees hit the couch, he gently pushed her onto it. She sat, her eyes wide, and her lips swollen from his kisses. “Take off your gown,” he demanded.
“Yes, sir,” she said, licking her lips.
She balled the bottom of it in her fists and lifted it over her head slowly. Seductively. She sat on the couch, her perky pink nipples begging for his touch. Naked and waiting for him. Waiting for him to make her come, repeatedly. Her bright green eyes sparkled and simmered, making his gut twist tight.
“Whatever you want, sir.”
“You’re getting good at this.” He trailed his finger down her bare shoulder, skimming over the curve of her breast. “At being a good, submissive girl.”
“Only for you,” she vowed.
And he fucking believed her.
He slid his hand lower, squeezing her nipple between his fingers. “Good.”
“May I remove your pants?” she asked, her voice breathy. “Please?”
“No.” He pinched her nipple one last time, then fisted her hair. “First, you need to be punished.”
“Punished?” Her brows lowered. “But you just said I was being good.”
“You are…right now.” He tugged her to her feet by the hair. She followed his lead without a fight. “But you went out with another man. Twice.”
She gripped his arms. “Not because I wanted to.”
“I know. And I’m okay with it, even. You’re not mine, no matter how much I wish you were.” He urged her head back, tugging on her hair gently. “But I still get to punish you for it. Don’t worry. You’ll love every second of it.”
And he would, too.
…
Isabelle sucked in a deep breath, her heart hammering against her ribcage. He was so dirty. So rough. So hot. He could be reading the newspaper out loud, but he’d find a way to make it sexy. Knowing him, by the time he got to the classifieds, she’d be begging for him to take her.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked, squeezing her thighs together to ease the ache that tried to kill her. The need to have him inside of her. “What do you want?”