“She’s the dream girl,” she finally whispered, looking over her shoulder at me. “Perfect.”
My jaw tightened, my throat working. Veronica wasn’t a dream to me, she’d been a placeholder, and in the end, she was a nightmare.
“Did you love her?”
My answer was firm, grounded in nothing but the truth. “No.”
She nodded and reached for her moisturizer. “I figured as much,” she mumbled.
I pushed off the wall and came to stand behind her. She lifted her head, finding my eyes in the mirror as I brought my hand to her butterfly. She lifted her chin, watching as I traced the outline of the delicate wing.
“I don’t want perfection anymore,” I whispered.
“She’s the perfect woman.”
My hand covered her throat in a possessive hold as the other gently unwrapped the towel. As it fell into a heap around her ankles, my upper lip curled, a low groan rumbling from my chest. “There’s no such thing as perfection, Margo Bennett.” I wrapped my arm around her soft middle, my thumbs stroking the wet skin by her rib cage. My eyes scanned the length ofher tattooed curves, memorizing every color, stretch mark, and freckle atop her pale skin. I put my cheek against her side of her wet head, meeting her eyes again as her cheeks reddened. “Though, after knowing you for only five seconds, my soul knew you were the closest thing I’d find to perfection in this life.” Her lips parted, her hands going to my forearm. The touch alone grounded me, making me forget about the bullshit with Gordon and the FBI.
“I was just too stubborn to admit it to myself,” I finally confessed, my fingers flexing at her throat.
“You and I are both stubborn, it seems,” she breathed.
I smiled and brushed my lips against her temple. “First step to solving a problem is admitting you have one.”
She shivered. “So did you just pull my towel away for me to freeze?”
“Always spouting shit off at me,” I murmured, bringing my hand up to her breast, cupping it possessively.
“Did you expect anything less?” she rasped, her head falling back to my shoulder.
I pinched her nipple. “Not from you, no.”
She whimpered, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth.
My eyes went back to the mirror. I watched in awe as she brought her knees together, squirming against me as I manipulated her sensitive, dark pink bud. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” I murmured. “You plague the majority of my thoughts.”
She moaned my name and arched her back, pressing her ass against the hard bulge of my jeans. I released her breast, tightened my hold on her throat, and dropped my hand to the apex of her thighs.
“Spread, Temper,” I commanded roughly.
She didn’t, panting as her nails dug into the skin of my arm. She turned her head, staring at me with those damning eyes. “Don’t tell me what to do,” she countered, licking her lips.
I kissed her, pulled back, and begged. “I had a hell of a day, beautiful. Please let me have what I need.”
“And what do you need?” she purred.
I groaned, loving the power play we’d discovered together. “I need to get lost in you. Please, baby. Let me have you.”
She brought her hand up to the one at her throat and tapped twice. I released her immediately. Over the last month, we’d been discussing our boundaries in the bedroom, discovering what we loved and what we didn’t. We both loved control, giving and taking it. She also wanted to explore more breath play with me. When my hand was on her throat, she only needed to tap it twice and I would release her. I would also never bind her hands if I was choking her.
She turned to face me, glanced down at my jeans, and smirked before grabbing my hand. She led me through the bedroom, her body jiggling and bouncing with each step, and my cock wept at the sight. She stopped in front of the couch, guided me to sit down, and tortured me as she undid my pants. When she climbed onto my lap, I was on the brink of insanity. I let my head fall back, feeling her warmth, the weight of her pinning me down where she wanted me. As my eyes closed, she put her hand on my throat.
“I want control,” she told me, her voice thick with lust.
“You have it,” I pushed out through my teeth as she wrapped her hand around my cock, lining the tip up to her core.
“Hands at your sides,” she ordered.
“God, you’re a fucking brat,” I clipped, jaw jumping.