Faking It / Forbidden Sins. Stefanie London

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       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      Hannah

      I’M SO OUT of my depth. I can only hope my voice sounds more commanding than I feel. Because right now, I want to melt into a puddle at Owen’s feet.

      His body is a masterpiece. Hard sculpted muscle shapes his arms, shoulders, legs and abs. A dusting of blond hair creates a delectable trail from his bellybutton all the way down to…

      God. I can’t tear my eyes away. Of course he’s perfect everywhere. Watching him touch himself, watching those slightly rough, strong tugs and the way the swollen head of his erection poked out the top of his fist… Let’s be real, I’m already a puddle.

      “We’re going to start with scent,” I say. I’ve found a bowl of fruit in the kitchenette and I’ve selected an orange. I press my fingernail into the flesh, piercing it. The ripe scent of the fruit’s flesh comes through. “What can you smell?”

      I bring the orange under his nose, trying hard not to think about how I want to rush through this and sink straight to my knees so I can take him in my mouth.

      “Hmm, fruity.” His voice is roughed up, desire-laden. God, it makes my toes curl in these ridiculously high heels. If a man can have that effect with his voice, what will happen when he finally touches me? “Citrus. Orange or mandarin.”

      “Very good.” I’ve collected a few items for us to use in this role play: a glass of chilled water, a fork and an individually wrapped chocolate. A condom that I’d stashed in my purse…just in case. “How about taste?”

      I peel back the rind from the orange and extract a small piece of flesh. Coaxing his mouth open with my thumb, I wriggle the fruit between his lips. He readily accepts it.

      “Definitely orange.”

      The chocolate is next. I unwrap the foil and see something flicker over his face—like he’s trying to figure out what the sound is. But I don’t give him any clues. Instead, I pop the chocolate into my mouth and take my time enjoying the small, decadent moment. Then I press into him, bringing my lips to his, and he responds hungrily. The taste of chocolate mixes with the orange he’s just consumed.

      “Tastes like a Jaffa,” he says, bringing his strong arms around me. “So sweet.”

      “Not yet,” I rasp, pulling out of his grip. I want to draw this out—because I have the power now. I’m in charge.

      And the second he gets his hands on me I’m going to fold like a house of cards.

      “Am I not a good test subject?”

      “You’re not very good at following instructions.” I pick up the fork and press the spiked end into his thigh—not enough to hurt, but certainly enough to elicit a response. His erection twitches and his hands ball by his sides. “How is your sense of touch?”

      “Heightened.” His voice is wire-tight.

      I trail the fork over his chest, letting the metal scrape lightly against his skin. I imagine the contrast feels good—a little pain, followed by something softer. I press my lips to his neck, breathing in the faded scent of cologne on his skin. Sucking so the blood rises to the surface.

      The soft imprint of lipstick fills me with a sense of warm possessiveness—like I’ve claimed him. Marked him.

      “If you want this to last more than five fucking seconds, you’re going about it all wrong, Hannah.” He speaks softly, the growling sound like a fine blade along my nerve endings, making my body sing. “I’m breaking character to tell you that.”

      “We’re almost there,” I purr, emboldened by the effect I’m having on him.

      I’m not quite done toying with him. I step back and watch him for a moment, let my eyes have their fill. Then I bring my hands to the zipper that runs down the side of my body, keeping my dress in place. I drag it down slowly, letting the sound slice through the air. Then I shed the garment, making a show of dropping it to the ground.

      “What can you hear?” I ask him.

      “Are you…?” His hand twitches, as if he’s going to touch himself again but I make an uh-uh sound. “Are you undressed?”

      “Almost.”

      I’m in lacy underwear, heels and no bra. But I hook my fingers under my waistband and drag the black silk and lace down over my hips. I step out of the underwear and dangle it from one finger. Then I move closer to him, draping the silk over his swollen cock. I drag it up his length, wrap it around him and rub the silk over his skin.

      “Hannah,” СКАЧАТЬ