Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“Go.”
I pulled my hand free and reminded him through clenched teeth, “You get to boss me around, but only with sex.”
His answering cocky grin almost melted me. “Aye, I can’t imagine otherwise. Now go.”
Despite his gruff delivery, his words had soothed my insecurities, and I found my hips swaying in invitation as I strode across his home and into his bedroom. I’d snooped in here the last time, thinking it very utilitarian. Bed, bedside tables, integral closets, and an en suite.
His bed, unsurprisingly, was made of solid oak. There were no throws or throw pillows.
Nothing feminine.
Except me in my peachy-pink lacy number as I turned to face the door and wait for him. I heard him mutter to Akiva and realized he was making sure she had everything she needed before he stepped into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. He’d kicked off his boots already.
Our eyes met and held, and there was that electric spark that had existed between us from the very first moment we’d met.
Holding my gaze, Ramsay pulled off his Henley and threw it to the floor.
I sucked in a breath, breaking his stare to take in his strong, broad chest. His biceps were bulky and sculpted, as were his pecs. But he didn’t have some superhero eight-pack or even a six-pack. He was rock hard and defined, but in a manly, natural way. His chest was lightly furred and a happy trail led downward to what I knew was going to be a generous surprise waiting for me in his boxers.
He was sexy as fuck.
He was a man.
And when he unbuckled his belt slowly, pinning me in place with those wolf eyes, my inner muscles clenched with anticipation. My underwear was a goner.
Ramsay’s lips curled as if he could read what undressing in front of me was doing to my body. Cocky Scotsman.
The sound of his zipper seemed overtly loud and sexual, and I licked my lips, devouring him as he shoved down his jeans and boxer briefs and stepped out of them.
His cock …
I didn’t even know if I’d fit my hand around it.
It strained toward his abdomen, swollen and big.
Big man, big cock.
I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. “What now?”
20. Tierney
“Undress.”
One word. A command.
Guttural. Needful.
Oh yeah, my Scotsman was as turned on as I was.
Feeling playful, I hesitated. “You don’t want to do it?”
His eyes flashed. “Not tonight. Undress. Now.”
“And then what?”
“And then I’m going to prove to you that you don’t have a ‘me problem.’” He referred to my words earlier. “We all have different … tastes and needs. I like to be the one in control while we fuck. I like a woman to give up her control to me. It’s what gets me off.” He cocked his head in consideration. “But some people prefer to be the one giving up the control. Most people spend their days shouldering their world by themselves. Not having to think or lead when it comes to sex is a relief. To have their partner make the decisions for them. It’s what gets them off. And there are different levels of that.”
“Like … BDSM?”
“Aye.”
“Is that what you’re into?”
“I wouldn’t label myself as a dominant. I don’t live that lifestyle. But I have a wee bit of kink in me.” He flashed me that cocky grin. “Most folks do. You do. Take off your knickers. Now.”
Shivering at his command, I slowly rolled the lacy fabric down over my hips and legs.
“Give them to me.”
Biting my lip and squeezing my thighs together, I handed over the underwear.
As soon as his fingers touched them, Ramsay’s eyes heated. “Soaked. Do you know why?”
I waited.
“Because you’re one of those women who spends her days making all the decisions, carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders … and you don’t want to think when it comes to sex. You need someone to tell you where to stand, when to bend over, and how loud to scream.”
My breathing grew ragged as my arousal intensified.
He was right.
He was so goddamn right.
“You don’t have a ‘me problem.’ You just want a domineering bastard in your bed.” He took a step toward me. “Domineering bastard at your service and happy to oblige. Now take off the bra.”
I unclipped it and let it drop to the floor.
My nipples puckered in the cool air and Ramsay’s tongue touched his lower lip like he was imagining taking them into his mouth. Yes, I almost begged.
Instead I waited for his next order.
He bridged the distance between us, his cock a heated prod against my stomach. Gripping the back of my neck, he tilted my head with a slight jerk that made me whimper, a wanton sound he muffled as he crushed his mouth over mine to kiss me. Hungrily. His beard abraded my skin, and I pressed my hands to his chest, curling my fingernails into his pecs as I held on, trying to meet his voracious kiss with my own.