Page 114 of Lana Pecherczyk

Fuck, she wasn’t just open to it—the idea turned her on. His demanding cock jerked, eager to make this fantasy a reality.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “I mean … that’s good.”

“You next.” He tugged his shirt off her, and then worked at the strappy knot behind her neck while kissing along her jaw. He whispered against her skin, “I love this game.”

Blake’s fingers tangled in his hair when his tongue traced the hollow of her throat. She rocked her hips against him, grinding along his shaft with little squeaking moans that made his heart race. Too many fucking clothes were in the way. The knot unraveled, and he pulled back to unwrap her like the gift she was. “Your turn, Blake.”

She quickly cupped the falling strips, stopping them from revealing more.

“You still okay with this?” He searched her eyes for any hint of hesitation.

“I’m just having a hard time focusing.”

His lips curved wickedly. “Of course you are. I’m irresistible.”

“We have to reveal three first, then choose one to explore.” Her gaze sharpened with delicious authority. “So, no more exploring until we’re ready to choose, okay?”

“Fine.” He lifted his palms in surrender, though his body screamed in protest.

“Good. Now, give me two more. I want to do this right.”

Blake’s bossiness ignited conflicting urges within him. He hated being submissive but loved it when she challenged him. How did that work? But the more he dwelt on it, the more he realized that he loved her pushing his boundaries, especially when it might end in her pleasure, when he gave her something she needed but never really had. That sparked deeper thoughts. The realization must have shown on his face.

“Okay, out with it,” she demanded, retying the strips at her ribs. “Were you thinking of a fantasy?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Maybe.”

“What crossed your mind?” Her gaze softened with the kind of honest affection that stole his breath.

That look was everything. The kind that stopped the mess from touching you. He would die to keep that look in his life. He would kill?—

“River?”

“Hm?”

“You were saying?”

“I like you bossing me around,” he said slowly, testing his words against the truth in his heart. “But I don’t like being dominated. I’m not sure what that means.”

A shy smile curved her lips. “I like it when you take charge.”

“Oh yeah? Like how?”

“Like when you just … you know … move me about however you want me.” She guided his hands into her hair, her eyes never leaving his. “Like when you want me so bad that you grab me and…” Hesitation threaded through her voice. “Maybe even force me to do hot, sexy things to you?” That sass returned full force. “But only if you’re communicating properly. And if I’m not in the fucking mood, then back off and let it go.”

Amusement twitched his lips. That’s all he showed on the outside, but inside, pure satisfaction and joy unfurled. His instinctive behavior had already set her on fire. He prompted, “And what else? You said there was something no one knew?”

“That was the thing.”

“Oh.” His gaze wandered to the toys spread across the bed.

She caught his look and laughed. “Oh, those? Ha ha. I have no idea what half of them do. But I guess you can mark me third fantasy down as exploring everything.” Her eyes brightened with wicked inspiration. “Ooh, and maybe some spanking. Or dressing up. And I did like the idea of you tying me up. Even a bit of—” She bared her teeth and growled.

“What does that mean?”

“It means flip me over and then use me like a whore.”

“Of course it means that.”