Page 49

Amelia---Lose Control

His eyes flick up to mine, dark with desire. I know exactly what he wants and he’ll take it from me—one bite, one smack, one orgasm at a time until I have nothing left to give. And then he’ll demand one more.

I am reclined, resting on my elbows as I watch, noting every movement. He pulls his shirt over his head in that singular motion I adore, baring his body to me. The man is an Adonis—lean and deadly—and all mine. He leaves his jeans on, stalking toward me. He reminds me of a panther. There is something primal about his movement, a claim hangs in the air, poignant with domination.

He is the predator and I am his prey.

I fall back, my wrists bound in his hand as he places them above my head, a non verbal command dangling in the air. The position makes my breasts strain against the flimsy bralette I’ve put on, the cut of it barely containing them. Rhodes leans over me, resting his weight on the palms of his hand, and runs his nose up the center of my chest, effectively tracing the core of my being. He moves one hand to run across my hip, caressing the skin there.

“Are you aching, kochanie ?” he whispers against my cheek, his thumb moving back and forth in a repeated movement. He knows what that nickname does to me.

“Rhodes.” I breathe, not trusting myself to say much more.

This is the game we play. He allows me to let go of everything, lay it down at his feet and in return, I give him what he craves most. I am not Amelia Conte when I am in his hands; I am simply his good girl.

I feel his thumb leave my hip, moving along the softness of my belly until he reaches the waistband of the pale pink underwear. I squirm, frustrated at his lack of speed…and at the way he knows exactly how to read my body.

“Is your pussy weeping for me?” His teeth graze my jaw, nipping and then soft licks follow. The very tips of his fingers dip beneath the hem and my hips rise in an effort to meet him. He tsks, leaving his fingers right where they stopped, pushing my hips back into the mattress. Rhodes’ body shifts down, a slow perusal of every line and scar and curve my body entails, his dark eyes never leaving mine.

“If I were to finger you right now, just how wet would you be? Hmm? Would you drip down my hand?” He smirks, his head level with my pelvis, one hand still on the dip of my belly and the other now full of my breast. Rhodes has snaked his hand into the cup of my bralette, the band trapping his wrist against my body. He takes my nipple, already erect, and places it between his fingers, tugging and rolling until there is nothing I can do but give in to the rush of endorphins flooding my body.

“No, I think I could make you come just,” I hear him say as he harshly pulls my nipple. “Like,” his finger reaches my hot center, and I spread my legs until I feel the burn.

“This.”Rhodes’ palm is firm against my clit as two thick fingers plunge into my pussy. Fuck.

His other hand glides down my body and pushes down, just above my pubic bone. I search for something to grasp, to ground myself. My fingers flexing in the sheets, in desperation.

He stops. His fingers still. Fuck .

“Did I say you could move your hands?” He slams my hands back above my head. “No, I don’t think I did.”

I buck my hips, trying to push myself over the edge, using the seam of his pants to get myself off.

“No, no, kochanie .” He growls, dominance radiating off him and forcing every ounce of me to soften. “Good girls get to come. Are you a good girl?”

“Yes.” I whisper, my eyes meeting his, hips still trying to meet him.

“Are you my good girl?”

I roll my head back and forth along the pillow, frenzy with need.

“Please, sir.” I whimper. I have never uttered the honorific, but this feels right, and Rhodes’ gaze confirms my thought.

“Prove it. Show me just how good you are.”

He pushes against my wrists once more, reminding me not to disobey, before returning to between my spread thighs. Gentle touches, almost tortuous in their path, traces of him creeping closer and closer to my center but never quite reaching it. His breath a mere tease along the lips of my sex, and then finally, his fingers spread me wide.

“Count.”