Page 105 of Money Reigns

He feels the hesitation instantly. His grip hardens, his mouth dragging lower, hot against my throat until his teeth scrape the sensitive spot that makes me tremble.

“Don’t you fucking hide from me,” he growls, rough and dangerous, every word vibrating against my skin. “You think I don’t know what’s under this dress? I’ve imagined every inch of you.Every curve. Every soft place I’m going to sink into. You were made to be devoured, my sweet girl.”

He releases my wrists and steps back. Just enough to make me ache from the loss of contact.

“Strip,” he says, voice low and final. “Then lie on the bed. I want to see you.”

My heart skips. Shame flares up fast, what if he sees the softness of my stomach, the dip at my waist that I always try to disguise?

“Now,” he adds, eyes dark. “Unless you want me to tear it offforyou.”

That jolts me into motion. I take a breath and turn toward the bed, the air cool against my flushed skin as I ease the side zipper down. I don’t dare look back. Not when I can feel his eyes on me like heat, like hunger, like punishment.

The dress falls and I face him.

Air skims my skin; every inch feels awake.

His gaze drags over me, slow and consuming until I forget why I ever tried to hide.

I climb onto the bed slowly, nerves alive and sparking. Lying there in just a bra and panties, I feel exposed.Too much. Too soft. Too everything.

But then he moves.

War peels off his shirt like he’s undressing for a ritual. His pants follow. His cock strains thick and heavy behind his underwear, and when his eyes land on me, they go molten.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice rough now. “Look at you. Laid out like temptation itself.”

My breath shudders.

“Take it off,” he says.

I blink.

“The bra. I want it gone.”

My hands shake as I reach behind me and unhook the clasp. The cups fall away.

He lets out a low, dangerous sound that shoots straight between my legs.

“I knew those would be perfect,” he mutters, crawling onto the bed like a man possessed. “Fuck, Olivia.”

He palms one breast, then leans in to suck the nipple between his lips, teeth grazing it just enough to make me gasp.

“That’s it,” he groans. “Make those sounds for me. Let me hear what that perfect body does when it’s finally getting what it needs.”

His mouth moves from one breast to the other, tongue flicking over the hardened peak before he sucks deep, possessive. My hands tangle in his hair, holding on, my thighs shifting restlessly beneath him.

“War—”

“You’re perfect.” His voice is low, wrecked. “These tits were made to fill my hands. They’re mine now. You hear me?”

I nod, breathless.

“No.” His teeth graze my nipple, sharp enough to make me gasp. “Say it.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “They’re yours.”

His cock jerks against me through the fabric between us, and he groans like the words undid him.