Page 41 of No Control
And it’s adorable, considering she’s standing in my kitchen drenched.
“First, you have to sign this.” I retrieve the contract from the counter.
“Oh yeah,” she mumbles. Lydia walks over and I hand her a pen for her free hand. I flip to the signature page and she scribbles her name across the line.
Finally.
“Thanks, I have a list for you of what I’d like included in the book. I’ll give it to you in the morning.”
She nods, and I swear the mention of work seems to relax her as her grip loosens on the towel and she sets the pen down. “That sounds good.” Her eyes flicker around the room, the only light on being the warm chandelier above the island. “Your house is beautiful.”
“Hmm.”
“I bet you get that a lot,” she laughs, the tone nervous and uneasy.
“Not really.” Because no one ever comes here.
“Okay, well,” she pushes a few strands of damp hair from her eyes. “I guess I will see you in the morning.”
“If you need anything, I’m the door at the end of the hallway. Jude is upstairs tonight. He’s working late.”
She bobs her head and then tugs at Duke, the two of them scurrying off to her room. I watch her as she goes, her wet jeans clinging to her ass. And the moment the door closes behind her, I run my hands over my face.
How the hell am I supposed to do this?
I make my way to my room, hitting the switch to shut the blinds and turn off the light in the kitchen. Darkness slowly encases the house, and it allows me to breathe a little easier. I don’t belong in the warm glow of a kitchen light with a woman like Lydia, but here I am, forcing her to do it.
Well, not in totality, I guess.
She is here on her own accord even if it took some manipulation—and that’s about the only thing I have going for me. Because as I shut the door behind me, I fucking lose it. Desire and lust burn through my veins, and I no longer fight it. I shed my clothes from my body, step into the bathroom, and start the black-tiled shower.
My cock throbs in my hand as I stand under the stream of water, scalding my shoulders. I squeeze my eyes shut, and let my mind run wild, mentally placing Lydia right here in this shower.
I pin her bare body against the wall, my cock pressed into her lower stomach and my fingers tracing the water droplets on her throat. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”
She whimpers in response, her emerald eyes widening as my grip tightens, the end of my fingertips pressing into her delicate, creamy skin. Her body shivers against me.
“Say it,” I demand from her, forcing her chin upward with a flick of my wrist.
Her hands fly to my chest, pressing against my skin as if she might push me away—but she doesn’t. Instead, she holds my gaze. “I’ll be a good girl…for you.”
I bite down on my lip and squeeze, taking her breath away for only a few seconds before releasing. She gasps for air but is cut off by my mouth, refusing to let her take what she needs. My tongue runs along her bottom lip before encasing her entirely, possessively claiming her as my own.
A moan slips from her throat as she kisses me back, tickling my hand. I squeeze in response, but not hard enough to stifle the sensation.
I want more.
I want that pussy wrapped around my cock, taking every inch of me. My lips break from hers, and I flip her around. Lydia lets out a cry as I roughly pin her against the wall, dipping my hips and pushing inside of her.
“Oh fuck,” she cries out as I slip my hand through her hair, tugging her head back to look at me.
“You’re mine,” I growl, thrusting the rest of the way into her. My hips slam into her ass, and her eyes grow glassy as moans fill the shower.
But it’s just in my head.
And as cum fills my hand, my release short and unsatisfactory, I let out a frustrated groan. Now that the woman is in my house, and the high of stalking her is gone, I’m a ticking time bomb.
And it’s only a matter of time before I explode.
