Silence.
I start writing big letters across his chest
Although... I am writing my name.
“Okay, okay,” he blurts suddenly, voice sharp. “I said I was in love with you, alright?”
My hand freezes mid-stroke.
“Grayson,” I whisper with affection, my heart aching.
I gaze at him, but he veers his eyes away, jaw clenched like admitting it cost him something vital.
“Why do you do that?” I whine.
Silence again.
Always guarded. Always locked up. He doesn’t have to be! How do I get past his armor?
A pause, musing.
“I got it!” I say, now realizing more and more what I want. I jolt to my feet and race upstairs.
When I return, I’m ready.
“Want freed?” I ask sweetly. “Then start talking, big guy.”
I roll my shoulders and let my robe fall.
There, I stand, wearing latex. Black corset. Semi-sheer. Baby pink garter belt. Matching panties. Hose straps clipped tight to thigh bands that hug the curves of my ass.
I stand still, let him see me.
His breath hitches, sharp and involuntary. But his expression stays stone-cold and controlled as always.
He’s pretending not to want me.
I love that. I’m getting to him. I just know it.
Therefore, I strut forward and straddle his hips, slow and bold. His mouth parts slightly, like his body’s reacting faster than his brain.
My hips lower, and I drag my pussy over his underwear. His rock hard shaft twitches.
He turns his face away. But we both know.
“I guess you like my outfit, baby?” I purr, leaning in.
His whole body tenses.
“Gonna play difficult, huh?” I ask. “That’s fine. But don’t be acoward.”
His body jerks upward, furious and brutal. His back arches, lifting me like I’m weightless, even restrained. I hang on, though.
“You little bitch,” he growls, sinking into the couch once more, glaring.
I smirk, breathless from the thrill. “Question one! Why hurt me?”
He sneers like it’s beneath him.
