He was waiting for her.
Oh, they’d come so far. Six months ago she’d have said there was no way this beautiful man, sexy and self-confident, strong and secure, would ever have put himself in a place where she could get him hard with nothing more than a murmured command. She wouldn’t have believed it of herself, either. And yet here they were, not mistress and slave but something far, far deeper.
‘I love you,’ he whispered into her ear when she didn’t grant him the privilege of her kiss.
Her pulse throbbed in her wrists and throat, and between her legs. Leah drew in a soft breath, not because the words were new or even unexpected, but because her world still rocked a little every time she heard him say them. He knew it, too. He was working her, but did she care?
He’d braced his hands on the desk on either side of her hips, his upper body a mere inch from hers and his mouth teasing her ear. Now Leah reached to sink her fingers into the deep, dark depths of his hair at the base of his neck. She traced the familiar curve of his skull and arched her back as his breath gusted over her skin on his hiss of pleasure.
She pulled, hard, harder than she’d have dared six months ago when this was all still new. She knew better, now, what he could take. Brandon could take a lot.
She pulled his hair as she turned her face to his and held him with their mouths a breath apart. It wasn’t that her grip kept him still. She had her fingers tightly woven into his hair, but he was big enough to get away if he wanted to. She tugged again to remind him of that, and another slow exhale drifted over her face.
Leah leant in and, eager, Brandon almost kissed her. Her hand in his hair arrested him, and his dark eyes went wide. She’d surprised him.
The white, soft hum of arousal filtered out all the other sounds. Leah looked deep into her lover’s eyes and felt her smile teasing him. ‘No.’
Her hand cupped the back of his neck for a moment before sliding over his shoulder and down to his chest. She pinched his nipple lightly until it pebbled under her touch and his skin humped into gooseflesh. Brandon let out another breath, this time with a shiver.
‘You don’t want me to kiss you?’
She loved it when he asked her what she wanted, how to give it to her. How to please her. She wanted a lover, not a mind-reader. She loved it even more when he got cocky and thought he knew. Most of the time he did, without question, but there were still times like now when she was able to remind them both of the rules of the game.
‘Oh, I want you to kiss me, Brandon.’
Heat had bloomed between them, more now against her thigh where his crotch pressed. It was his name, the way she said it. Turned him on, and knowing that it was his trigger got her revved up, too.
He smiled. ‘Not on the mouth?’
Leah wanted to smile, too. She always did when she saw Brandon’s grin. It lit him up from inside, infectious, and made her want to kiss him breathless. She raised a brow instead and kept her expression cool.
Without saying anything, she put her hand on the top of his head and pushed down. The desk creaked when he shifted and went to his knees in front of her, when he pushed her legs apart under the long corduroy skirt she’d chosen for both warmth and fashion.
The material dipped between her knees and made a well into which he pressed his face. Looking down, she ran her fingers through his hair as his hands came to rest on her ankles. She still wore her knee-high leather boots, flat-heeled for walking. He’d bought her those boots.
His nose nudged her through the multiple layers of her skirt, tights and panties. He sat back on his heels, his dark eyes alight with desire. The belt had fallen to the floor, forgotten.
Leah leant back on the desk a little and put her foot into his lap. ‘Boots.’
First, he leant forwards to rub his cheek against her calf. He drew in a breath, smelling the leather. He made a fuck-noise low in his throat, and her clit pulsed. Her hips shifted, the desk creaked, and Brandon looked up at her as though he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
Which, of course, he did.
Next, he ran those big, strong hands up the leather, then found the zipper and tugged it down. Not fast. Brandon inched the zipper open without looking away from her eyes. Each separating tooth eased the leather’s constriction on her calves until finally the entire boot had opened.
Heat leaked through the vents on the ceiling and the room wasn’t chilly, but Leah shivered at how cold the basement air felt on her leg without the boot’s protection. Or maybe the shiver came from Brandon’s fingers easing the boot from her foot and how he cradled it in his lap. Her tights-covered toes pressed the bulge in his boxers.
Gently, he put her foot on the floor and lifted the other boot into his lap to repeat the process. Leah wiggled her toes, which had been slightly pinched, and Brandon captured her ankle in his huge hand. He could circle his fingers all the way around it.
Leah hooked her fingers into the soft corduroy and inched it higher, over her thighs. Winter-weight tights weren’t quite as sexy as thigh-highs and garters, but, hell, it was cold in Iowa.
Brandon didn’t seem to care. He ran his hands up her legs and drifted them over her knees and
