Page 52 of Maneater (The Mavens #1)
THIRTY-FIVE
JOSIE
We walk up to Rowan’s room in silence, Rowan walking so quickly I feel like I’m almost running behind him. When we get to his room, he pulls out his keycard and tugs me inside, slamming the door shut behind us and pinning me to it as he does.
“I need to get you out of this,” he says, lips to my neck, and I moan at the idea of it.
“Zipper is in the back,” I say, my own fingers moving at the buttons on his shirt as his lips move over whatever skin he can find.
It’s frantic and frenzied, the need to expose and touch as much skin as possible once and for all.
His fingers find the zipper and tug it down before using his teeth on the straps, tugging them off my shoulders until they fall down, my dress following suit.
He steps back, looking me over.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, taking me in like he’s never actually seen something so breathtaking in his life.
Now, I have a good ego and great self-confidence.
Once I emerged from my awkward phase in early high school, I always knew I looked good in a fifties bombshell kind of way, regardless of the current body trend.
Smooth skin, lush, wide hips, and a small waist all make even my mouth water when I look in the mirror.
But never in my life have I felt as gorgeous as I do right now, naked in front of Rowan Fisher, his fingers roving over every inch of my body.
He’s looking at me like I was carved out of the most precious material with him and him alone in mind.
Like he wants to keep me, to preserve me. To make me his.
Finally, he shakes his head like he’s knocking himself out of some daze and steps closer to me, tugging my naked body into his clothed one.
“Do you remember when I said I was going to tie you to the bed and have my way with you, so there was no way we wouldn’t finish what we started?”
Heat runs through me, desire and need, and so much lust I think it might consume me coursing through my veins with his mere words.
He holds up three silky ropes that I don’t remember him grabbing, and my mind does not want to spend too long on the how of how he has them, just the why, until I take a closer look and see it isn’t rope at all, but ties tied together.
“My god, how many ties do you have, Rowan?” I ask with a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear more than one or two while you’re here.”
He gives me a boyish smile that I fucking love before shrugging. “They’re easy to throw in a suitcase, and I never know how many to bring or how long I’ll be somewhere. I brought a bunch.” He shakes the fistful with a smile before gently wrapping his hand around my arm.
He has me sit on the edge of the bed, then shifts my arms behind my back, stacking my wrists over each other before he ties them together with a gentle, assured movement.
My breathing escalates at the touch of his fingers on my bare skin, my ability to touch him removed.
“At any time, you say stop, and we’re done.
I let you out of these, and I fuck you nice and sweet.
” He presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist, where I’m sure he can feel my pulse thrumming.
“And if I don’t?” I ask, my voice a mere whisper.
“Then we’re going to play. And there will be no interruptions.
” There’s a smile in his voice before he presses another kiss to my neck, and I shiver.
He moves to the foot of the bed and continues his quick work, using his tie-rope to tie one leg and then the other to each bedpost until my legs are spread wide on the bed.
It’s not uncomfortable, just enough that I feel stretched. On display. For his enjoyment.
It’s absolutely thrilling.
“Look how fucking pretty you are,” he groans when he stands back to survey his handiwork.
“You’re still dressed,” I note, taking in his body.
He smiles, a wicked one that goes straight to my core.
“I’ll undress when I’m ready. I’m in control, Josephine.”
Another shiver runs through me, both at the look in his eyes and the idea of him being in control.
With my job, I’m always in control. Always on, always aware. Otherwise, it could be dangerous. But here, with Rowan, I feel safe. Able to turn it off, to let him do with me what he will. A sense of ease runs through me at the realization, the understanding that I trust him so completely.
“You’ve been telling lies, Josie,” he whispers, and a shiver rolls through me. I should feel nervous about his statement, but instead, my body is heating up.
“Lies? Me? Never.”
He smiles wide, a hand moving up my inner thigh.
“Mmm, I think we both know you’re not being completely truthful,” he says, his hand grazing back down the same path and moving up my other leg. “What are you doing here at the resort?”
Oh my fucking god.
Is this what I think it is?
“I’m on vacation.” The lie slips so smoothly off my tongue, an impulse from years of doing this that I almost convince even myself. That’s half the battle in this job—in telling half-truths and complete lies, you have to do it so well, you sell even yourself on the story.
And I’m really good at my job.
“You know, I kind of thought this was going to be more…touching instead of talking,” I whisper.
“Oh, there will be plenty of touching, Josie. Once you tell me what I want to know.” His fingers trail up my inner thigh, and my heart pounds with anticipation. I can feel it all over, but most intensely between my legs.
“Is this…is this an interrogation?” I ask, fighting back a shocked laugh. He raises an eyebrow at me.
“Is there something you should be interrogated for?” There’s a smirk on his lips as a finger runs over the seam where my pussy and thighs meet, teasing but never touching where I need him most.
“I…” My mind goes blank when he takes that finger up and over my pubic bone and down the other side. “Rowan,” I whisper. I’m unable to focus on anything but my need and the promise of him.
“Can I touch you here?” he asks, moving his hand to hover almost politely over my pussy.
“Oh my god, yes, please,” I beg, and again, he smiles before using his thumbs to part me, moving to his knees on the floor and staring at my center.
“God, you’re pretty,” he mumbles to himself, then runs a finger through my center. “All wet and needy, exactly how I think I’m going to like you best.” A shaky breath leaves my lips. “Do you need me, Josie?”
I nod frantically. “Yes. I need you. Please.”
That seems to appease him as he slides a finger inside.
My body tightens around the digit instantly.
We both groan in unison at the feeling of him sliding inside me.
Quickly, he slides out and inserts another slowly, and when I try to buck my hips up to get more, I remember I can’t.
I can’t do much of anything tied to the bed like this. “Oh, fuck.”
He chuckles deviously before moving his fingers faster.
“At my mercy, at my whim,” he says, fingers moving faster, crooking up as they slide in, brushing against my G-spot.
I realize then I’m already close, faster than I’ve ever climbed there before.
I don’t know if it’s just the long lead-up, the fact that I didn’t come yesterday, or that I’m tied up and at his mercy, but I’m not questioning it.
“Rowan, please,” I beg softly, and he smiles down on me.
“The first one will be a freebie, just for being my good girl,” he says, and even though I’m confused and stuck on the first one, I nod, pleading. “Some goodwill to remind you that, regardless of everything, I trust you. I believe you. I’m going to take care of you.”
I nod, looking down my body at him.
“Yes, yes. I’m good. I’ll be good, Rowan.
” I need it more than I need air right now, and he must see it because he puts his thumb to my clit and starts to pump a finger into me.
My hips move as much as I can without bending my knees, without breaking the unspoken rules, and in just a few moments, I’m tipping over the edge, screaming his name as an orgasm washes over me.
Except he doesn’t stop. His fingers keep moving, keep fucking me, though it’s slower now, more torturous, and he’s added a thumb to my clit. I don’t get to bask in the relief of the orgasm he just gave me because my body is already moving back to that same state of need.
“I’ve never seen anything hotter than watching you come, Josie,” he murmurs, eyes locked on where his fingers are working me. I tighten around him, and he groans. “So fucking pretty, watching you take me. I could do this all night, you know. Make you come.”
I shake my head because, as delightful as that sounds, I want more. I want…I want everything.
“Please, Rowan. Just…” My mind doesn’t work, not right now, not like this, when my body is already gearing up for another orgasm from his endless ministrations, his fingers that already seem to know my body so well. “Please just fuck me.”
He smiles up at me, and a devious look is written across my face. “I will. Once you tell me what I want to hear.”
His eyes roam over my body, tied up and at his mercy, and I understand completely.
He’s tied me to his bed not just to have fun and make me feel good, though I know that’s part of the plan, but to convince me to tell him the truth of why I’m here.
There’s a glint in his eye, like he already knows the truth and wants to hear it from me, wants to pull it from me.
But despite it all, I’ve never felt safer than I do in this moment with him.
Right now, I feel completely cared for. I know in my gut if I told him to stop, really stop, he would drop whatever game he’s playing. He would step away, untie me, and, if I wanted, he would fuck me sweet and slow.
But I don’t want him to stop.
In fact, I’m liking this new game, liking that he thinks he’s going to win so easily. And even more, I like the idea of proving him wrong.
“Never,” I say in a whisper, a seductive smile on my lips, the man-eater in the word.