Page 95 of Give In
Damien’s own massive frame went rigid, making me feel as though he were towering over me despite the space separating us. A muscle in his jaw ticked from how hard he clenched it.
The steel in my spine wanted to melt, but again, my reaction wasn’t born of fear or intimidation, though that would’ve been smart. Normal.
But I was wrong. I wanted to listen so I could get his praise. See his pride.
Be his girl.
I was disgusted with myself, but not enough to leave. Self-righteousness could keep me company on long, sleepless nights, but it wouldn’t get me off.
Begging might, but my ego wasn’t ready to concede.
That left me with stubbornness. Unabashed, bold, wily stubbornness.
“Class, Eden.” He began to unlock the door, and I panicked.
My palm slid from my hip to cover my breast, caressing it like he had.
His hand stayed on the lock, but he didn’t finish turning it, his expression impassive and unreadable.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Hoping my other hand looked sexily alluring and not nervously trembling, I lowered it to cup myself between my legs. The contact made me flinch, my breath catching.
Damien still didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Although his face remained blank, his eyes were an inferno. There was a challenge in them.
He’d started the battle, and he was daring me to finish it.
Stubbornness. Unabashed. Bold. Wily.
Desperate.
I plunged my fingers into my bra, zeroing in to circle and tweak my nipple. It felt so good, my eyes wanted to drift close, but I pried them open. Partially because I didn’t trust what Damien would do, but mostly because I was drunk off the heat that burned in his gaze as he watched me. I didn’t want to miss it. Not even for a second.
When he still didn’t speak or move, I did. “I’m not leaving this room until I come. If you won’t do it, I will.” I wanted to shove my hand down my pants and get it over with, but I wanted Damien to do it more. Giving him time to step in, my splayed fingers skimmed along my waistband.
C’mon.
Back down.
Say chicken.
I hadn’t thought it was possible, but his bulge seemed to grow, jerking against its confines. The only other changes in Damien were the more pronounced tick at his jaw and the subtle arch of his brow.
The challenge and the dare. And doubt.
Driven by ego and desperation, I shoved my hand down my leggings and panties. A long, quiet moan came from someplace deep inside me. My fingers were instantly soaked as they skimmed along my seam.
Releasing the door, Damien stalked toward me, commanding and intense. Powerful. Intimidating.
There was a storm brewing in his midnight skies.
And I was in the epicenter.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growled.
“Don’t you remember?” I was pleased to hear my wobbling voice contained even trace amounts of the coquettishness I was aiming for. I sat on the edge of his desk and put one of my feet on the chair, parting my legs. “You’re the one who said I should spread on your desk and show you exactly how I…luckmyself.”
His wide shoulders and chest rose and fell with his heavy breathing as he grabbed his bulge through his pants.
