Page 64 of Full Out Fiend

I freeze where I stand. I just came way too close to admitting the truth to a man I can just barely resist.

“Forget it!” I growl in frustration, turning on my heel to storm out of the kitchen.

This place is a literal mansion. I’m sure I can find two stupid batteries somewhere if I look hard enough.

But before I can leave the room, he grips my arm and gently but firmly pulls me toward him. His hands slide down my sides. His fingertips dig into my hips. He moves me where he wants me—right between his spread legs—then looks down at me in earnest.

“If I did this to you, let me fix it.”

“Fielding,” I warn, my hands rising to his chest on instinct. I’d like to believe I’m trying to push him away and put a bit of space between us. But a supercharged zing of arousal hits me the second my palms brush the taut muscle of his pecs.

Based on the way he sucks in a breath and goes still under my touch, I know damn well he feels it, too. I never stood a chance.

“What do you need, angel?”

He skims his hands down my hips again, then grips the hem of my T-shirt.

The way he’s looking at me is familiar and so unbelievably hot. My breasts feel heavy and my lungs ache as I stare up at him, panting and silently pleading for him to put me out of my misery.

I know he knows what I need. I also know he’s not going to make a move without explicit consent.

“Use your words,” he murmurs as he dips his head low and brushes his lips down the side of my neck. It’s a tease. An invitation. An offer of what could be if I’d just get out of my own head…

But we shouldn’t complicate things. I’m still so unsure about so much.

His mouth rests right against the pulse point below my ear, each exhalation sending a fresh shiver of arousal through my body. I want him. I also really want to get off. I’m tired of overthinking where this man is concerned. That, or I’m too horny to worry about the consequences.

He’s going to make me say it. To ask for what I want and what I know he could give me.

Decidedly, I wrap my arms around his neck and push up on my toes. His muscles lock up under my touch for just a second, then he relaxes and pulls me closer.

It’s just us. But my words still come out barely above a whisper.

“I’m horny and my vibrator died. I’m desperate.”

His devilish smile is the only answer I get before his fingers tease under the fabric of my T-shirt.

“This doesn’t mean—” I start, suddenly panicked that he’s unclear about what I’m asking.

He doesn’t let me finish. One second, I’m standing between his legs. A second later, my feet lift off the floor. He spins us, strides forward, and sets my bare ass on the cool quartz of the kitchen island before bracing his arms on either side of my body and leaning in close.

“This doesn’t mean anything you don’t want it to mean,” he confirms. “But I did this to you. And you have needs. So let me take care of you.” His fingertips tease up both my legs, tickling the tops of my thighs as he caresses the delicate skin of my bikini line. “I told you I was all in, angel. It’s time you trust that I know exactly what you need and how you want it.”

Fuck.

I spread my legs wider, and he wastes no time flexing his fingers and spreading my lips apart.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he praises as he zeros in on my pussy.

I take advantage of his distracted state and whip the T-shirt off over my head.

His eyes immediately rise to my chest.

“Goddamn,” he groans in earnest. “You’re fucking perfect.”

I squirm under his heated stare until he lifts his chin and regards me.

“Just so we’re clear; this is about you. You, and what I did to you.” He smirks at his own joke. “I’m getting you off, then tucking you into bed. Got it?”