Page 107 of Make Me Yours

Waiting.

Wanting.

Trying not to fall apart from the anticipation alone.

I have no idea if I’m ready for whatever comes next. What I do know is that I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

The floorboards creak behind me.

Steele’s steps are steady.

Controlled.

The sound alone makes my entire body tighten. He stops directly behind me, and the sheer presence of him wraps around me like smoke.

When his hand ghosts along my spine, I shudder.

“You’re quiet,” he says, tone low and dark. “Getting nervous on me?”

I swallow, still facing the chair, knuckles white against the edge of it. “A little.”

His fingers trail from the base of my neck down to the small of my back. The sensation is light and teasing.

“Don’t be.”

He moves around me to sit on the chair with his legs spread. Every inch of him is completely relaxed.

Except for his eyes.

They’re dark and filled with hunger.

“Come here,” he says, rougher now.

I step toward him, trying not to trip over my own feet.

His eyes never leave mine as he reaches for the button of my jeans. “Let’s get these off.”

“Here?” Surprise jolts through me.

His mouth curves slightly. “Yes, right here in the dining room.”

There’s no rush as he flicks the button. The slide of the zipper is deafening in the quiet room before he shoves the denim down my hips and thighs. When it pools around my ankles, I kick off the heels and step free, leaving my legs bare.

He glances at the thin cotton of my panties, and his jaw flexes. There’s no way he doesn’t notice how the material clings to me.

“You weren’t kidding. You’re soaked. We should probably take them off as well.”

His fingers hook into the delicate fabric before dragging it down my legs so I can step out of the underwear. Heat floods my cheeks as he gently pulls me across his lap. I brace my hands against his thighs, unsure how to position myself. Every part of me is lit up with anticipation.

“Relax,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you. I’ve always had you.”

One hand strokes down the curve of my back, slow and soothing, as his other hand rests on the back of my thighs.

“Do you trust me, Lilah?”

“Yes,” I reply without hesitation.

Because I do.