“Jaxon, I can’t?—”
“You can,” he murmurs, his mouth close enough that the words slides over my skin. “And you will.”
Oh God.
Why does that tone make me want to do everything he says? I’m a grown woman. Independent. Capable. I handle my life, my job, my world. But right now, all I want to do is hand myself over to him.
His hand finds my arm, tracing down slowly—so slowly—it’s like he’s learning my wants, my needs by touch alone. When his fingers reach mine, still clutching the plates, he gives the gentlest squeeze. “Down,” he whispers. “Now.”
I swallow hard, set the plates in the sink, and shut off the water.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs against my ear.
My girl.
The words are a spark in a room full of oxygen.
Before I can turn, he’s already pressing against me, his body solid and hot, pinning me lightly to the counter. It should make me feel trapped, but instead, every nerve in my body wakes up and sings.
“Did I tell you how good you looked in this dress?” he asks, his lips brushing the edge of my jaw.
“I… think so.” My voice is barely a whisper. My brain, well, that’s gone completely offline.
“Did I tell you how good you’re going to look out of it?” he practically growls.
A burst of heat races through me. “God, no,” I rush out, the words tumbling over themselves.
His fingers pause on my arm. “No, as in I didn’t tell you,” he murmurs. “Or no as in you don’t want that to happen?”
I wet my bottom lip in anticipation as the words slip out, “I want it to happen.”
That seems to please him because the second I say it, he growls deep and turns me. My dress slides up my legs, fabric whispering against skin, and then I’m in his arms—weightless, breathless—as he lifts me up against him. Instinct takes over. My legs wrap around his waist, my hands brace on his shoulders, my body burns in a way it’s never burned before.
He starts toward the hallway, each step long, determined. But halfway there, like the bedroom is simply too far, he changes course, setting me down on the cool surface of the kitchen island. He opens my legs, and my pulse leaps as he situates himself between them. He braces his hands on either side of me, the heat of him, the scent of spice and soap and sin curling around me like a storm.
For a moment, he just looks at me. Like he’s memorizing what I look like right before he ruins me, and yes, I’m confident this man is going to ruin me in ways I don’t yet understand.
“I thought I’d show you,” he says slowly, voice dark silk. “Some of my other talents in the kitchen.”
A laugh escapes me, rough and needy. “I…Jaxon…” Never before have words abandoned me, but then again, I’ve never been with a man like Jaxon.
He grins, inching closer. “You like that idea, huh?”
There’s no hiding from him. Not with the trembling in my voice, the way my breath keeps catching. But that’s okay, with everything we’re doing here, with the lessons he’s about to give me, there can only be truth.
His thumb brushes my damp panties, and the growl that crawls from his throat fuels the fire inside me.
“Jaxon.”
His head lifts, and as my eyes drift shut he commands, “Eyes open.” My lids flick open. “You’re going to want to watch what I’m doing to you.”
Right, because he’s teaching me how to please a man. But wait, no. He’s pleasing me, wanting me to understand my wants and needs too. My heart wobbles, because this man…this man…
Careful girl, don’t go falling for the wrong man.
My heart pounds so hard, I’m sure I’m going to break a rib when his lips find mine. I moan into his mouth, kissing him back with all the hunger building inside me. He grips my butt, and pulls me harder against him. My legs dangle over the counter as he deepens the kiss, and groans into my mouth as he grinds his erection against my aching core.
I swear to God, I’m seconds from spontaneously combusting, from telling him to touch me already, when he breaks the kiss. He watches me for a moment, and then he grips my dress, raising it higher. He growls as his gaze drops to my white lacy panties, and he runs his finger along the band.