Before I can truly comprehend what’s happening, he sweeps me into his arms and we’re moving toward the stairs. The world spins, and I wrap my arms around his neck. Kane is a rock in the world of chaos swirling around me.
The upper level of his place is dark, but he moves with confidence. If he can see in the dark, I wouldn’t be surprised. When he lowers me to my feet, I expect to be in a bedroom, but there are walls of glass and mirrors.
A bathroom?
He flips the lights on low and I see what appears to be a shower. When he steps inside and hits a few controls, steam blooms from nozzles.
Despite the warming temperature in the room, my nipples peak and my clit throbs. My inhibitions apparently faded with each shot of liquor I drank, and I reach for the buttons of my blouse.
He brushes my hands away before undoing the buttons one at a time. “When you walked into that room for the first time, I felt like I took a sledgehammer to the chest.”
I lift my gaze to his.
“And when you realized what was happening in the next room? I’ve never seen anything so fucking sexy in my life. How badly did you want to touch yourself?”
I can’t even begin to describe how badly when he’s looking at me like that.
He reaches the last button and pushes the silk over my shoulders. I let it fall to the floor.
“I wanted to watch you touch yourself while you watched them. It took everything I had to stop you.”
My hands go to the button of my jeans, but Kane’s already there. He peels them down my legs and I stand before his crouching form, dying for him to touch me again.
“Why did you?”
“The second you touched yourself, I would’ve pinned you to the desk.”
My nipples tighten, imagining him coming out of the shadows to take me like the man had owned that woman. The image of him fucking her face flashes across my brain. I wanted that. Now, I just want my stranger.
No, not a stranger anymore. I want Kane.
He rises to his feet before me. In his jeans and T-shirt, he’s even more devastating than in the suit he wore that night. The sleeves stretch around his biceps, and every inch of ink-covered skin makes me want to trace the lines with my tongue, pushing away the clothing that hides the rest of it. He’s big and forbidden, but somehow, that makes him infinitely more striking. And he’s struck me so hard as to knock me completely off-balance.
He’s a dangerous man. A man I shouldn’t be drawn to. Shouldn’t want more than I want to breathe right now. But I do. And as much as I want to throw my control at his feet, I hang on to a thread, telling myself it matters.
Taking a step toward the billowing steam, I reach behind my back to unhook my bra, shrug it down my arms, and pull it free before dropping it.
“You want to watch me now, don’t you?”
“Fuck yes.”
His voice sounds ragged, almost as needy as the one inside my head, and a surge of power fills me as I strip off my panties, reach back to find the glass door, and push it open. Steam envelops me, and the heat intensifies everything I’m already feeling.
“I want to watch you touch yourself too.” I’ve thought about that more than I want to admit since that first night.
I let the door close with me inside and keep moving back until my shoulder blades hit the tile. The hair around my face curls into tiny ringlets from the humidity, and my fingertips send chills skating across my skin when I drag them over my collarbone.
His eyes flash, and I feel like I’m taunting a wild animal. It’s more intoxicating than the liquor.
“You must like dangerous games, because you’re playing one again.” His voice is deeper, rougher, like maybe he’s half as affected by me as I am by him.
I want to make him burn for me. I want to force him to lose his grip on his iron control. What would happen if he stopped holding back and justtook?
“I’m just getting started. Feel free to jump in whenever you’d like.” I skim over my nipples, and they tighten impossibly harder before I thumb them.
Kane’s nostrils flare just before he reaches behind his neck and pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on the floor. His gaze locks on mine, saying the next move belongs to me.
Good Lord, he’s ridiculously sexy. His body couldn’t be more perfect if a great master carved it from stone and then added his tattoos in perfect strokes. I’m so far out of my league, it’s not even funny. And yet, his big hands flex at his sides like he can barely keep himself from ripping the glass door off the shower to get to me.