Page 18 of Girl Anonymous
She grew tense, and she nodded.
He slid her around to face him. His grave expression frightened her; was he going to say it was too late? He shut her legs and pressed her knees together. “Saynowhenever you wish. I’ll stop. I’ll understand.”
She glanced down at him. Did he not really care if they—
“I’m as hard as I’ve ever been in my life. I want to lick you, suck you, take you in every way possible a man can take a woman. Then I want you to do the same for me.” How did heknow what she was thinking? The skin over his cheekbones had flushed a dark red, and so had his lips. His eyes observed her the way a predator observed its prey, and if anything, the sight of her body made his fingers twitch and reach. “I have committed my sins, Maarja, but I won’t take you, no matter how much I want you. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
He sat back on his heels, so his head was below hers. “A man who can’t control his urges isn’t worth your spit.”
She nodded.
“You have to tell me what you want to do. You can refuse me.”
“I’m not refusing.”
“You have to give me vocal permission.”
She looked around the shower. “Are youfilmingthis?”
He tossed back his head and roared with laughter. “No. I can see why you’d think so, but no. Nevertheless, I want the words. Refuse or, if you want to proceed, I want a spoken understanding.”
“When I look at you, whether I like it or not, all I can think is…I want to fuck him.” She had to swallow before she could continue. “I don’t know why. Why you?”
“I have some ideas,” he said.
“I want to get on top of you, feel what you’re like inside of me, ride you until we both collapse and the world vanishes.”
“One moment in this day that’s memorable not in a horrible way.” He echoed her earlier words.
“Yes.” She parted her legs and leaned forward. “I may have been misinformed, but as I understand it, your shorts have got to go.”
He shed them in record time. He used the oil again, rubbing her until she was so aroused she was almost in pain, then coating himself. He knelt exactly in front of her and pulled her on top of him.
It was so simple. His erection unerringly found her and in slow, smooth small movements began the journey in. Her weight—and the aforementioned earth’s gravity—pushed her onto him and the oil eased the way.
Her discomfort grew. She clenched and gave a weak struggle.
His fingers tightened on her butt cheeks. He stopped, glared, and clipped off one single word. “Virgin.”
She stared back at him.
He waited.
She admitted the truth with one jerky nod.
“The Fates laugh.” He tucked one arm under her bottom and wrapped the other around her waist, pulled her to his chest, and eased back so once again he sat on his heels. As he did, her feet slipped on the tile, she descended and…he was inside.Allthe way inside.
The shower rained down on their heads, a peaceful sound so the opposite of the harsh breathing from them both, and they stared at each other, her in shock, him in… She couldn’t begin to decipher what he thought. Not what she’d expected. Not any rush of pleasure, certainly not ecstasy. Fury or grim determination. Or murderous intention.
What did that mean? Was he angry at her? Was he feeling trapped? Did men routinely look like sex turned them into maniacs? How would she know? And…it was a little late to wonder. She was here, now. Should she escape?
Tentatively she slipped her hands off his chest.
Stupid. Did she think she could leave and he wouldn’t notice?
“All right?” He caught her hands and brought them up onto his shoulders. “Still hurts?”
