The tip of his tongue peeked out to wet his lips as he eased closer and trailed his fingers up her arms.
“Will you allow me to undress you?” he said softly.
Butterflies fluttered to life inside her belly as her breath quietly hitched.
She nodded, trying not to appear too eager.
“Would you like that?” he whispered, sliding his index finger under one of the spaghetti straps and running it forward and back, teasing her as he drew it off the curve of her shoulder.
She licked her lips and willed her willowy knees not to give out.
“Would you?” he asked again, his mouth hovering barely an inch from her ear.
Her palms found the backs of his arms as she nodded. “Yes . . . please.”
Everything stopped but their breathing. He didn’t move closer and didn’t step back. His finger froze under the strap. But she could feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest even if she couldn’t see it.
A moment later, he said, “You know what will happen if I undress you.” It wasn’t a question, but a promise of how the rest of the night would unfold.
“Yes.”
“Is that what you want?”
God, yes, it was what she wanted. It was what she’d wanted since that first phone call.
Her grip on his triceps intensified. “Yes.”
He slipped his finger out from beneath the strap and took a measured step back. “Then lift your arms over your head.”
His request took her by surprise, because she had thought he was going to slide the straps off her shoulders and remove her dress that way.
“Raise them,” he said, using his Dom voice.
She snapped to attention, shooting her arms into the air like he had just pulled a gun on her.
He started to smile, then pressed his lips together, erasing his amusement.
“Relax,” he said, stepping forward. “No one will hurt you here, least of all me.” He lifted his own arms, pressing his palms to hers, then dragged them down her wrists, her forearms, over her elbows, then down her triceps before sweeping them under her arms to her breasts.
She stood a little taller as his palms hesitated for only a moment to appreciate her modest C cups before traveling lower.
As his fingers glided down the skirt of her dress, he knelt in front of her. His dark gaze watched for her reaction as he lifted the hem, and his hands disappeared underneath.
When his fingers skimmed the lightest caress up the insides of her thighs, tiny detonations exploded throughout her body, making her suck in her breath. As soft as a feather, his fiery touch made her skin come alive as his hands swept to the outside of her thighs, over her hips, and along the sides of her torso as he slowly rose to his feet.
The dress bunched and crept higher, and as he ran his hands up her arms, he simultaneously lifted the dress over her head.
And just that smoothly, he took the Oscar de la Renta masterpiece off, then laid it gently over the back of one of the leather chairs.
He took a moment to admire her body, his gaze studying every line and curve before he trailed the tips of his fingers down the line in the center of her abdomen, making her stomach muscles quiver.
She had eaten a lot of salads and done about a million planks to develop that line separating the two halves of her tummy. The sacrifices and hard work had been worth it to have this one moment of watching him carefully inspect her with eyes that said he liked what he saw.
His sensual scrutiny continued as he circled her body again, stroking here, fondling there, squeezing one cheek of her ass.
Then, with the one-handed skill of a seasoned expert, he deftly unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor. Her whole body went rigid from surprise. She couldn’t even unhook her bra with one hand, but Warren had done it like he’d been born to.
The move had been so totally unexpected that Jenna gasped and instinctively began to cover herself.
“No.” He touched her arm and gently pushed it down as he came back around to the front. “Let me see you.”
Said the man with a Christmas present fetish. Who knew that was even a thing?
Lowering her arms to her sides, she felt her nipples tighten as he surveyed her breasts, first one, then the other. But he didn’t touch them. Just stared, as if he could feel them with his eyes.
Jenna perused his masked face, trying to imagine what he looked like beneath the matte black fabric, then dropped her gaze to his crotch. He was seriously aroused, impressively tenting his slacks.
But she only had a couple of seconds to gawk before he pushed forward, snaked one arm around her back, and used his other hand to shove her panties off one hip.
She gripped the sides of his abdomen to keep from falling as her legs shuddered.
“You almost ripped the wrapping paper,” she teased, grinning to herself that she was able to elicit such a passionate, almost reckless reaction from him after he’d made that speech earlier about taking his time.
He chuckled and pressed closer, using both hands now to thrust her panties even lower. “I am going to enjoy marking your body.” His voice was a low, sensuous roll.
“Marking?”
He firmly palmed her bare ass cheeks. “With welts.” Bending his knees, he lowered himself in front of her, dragging her panties down her thighs, stopping with his face over one breast. He lightly bit the swell of flesh. “Right here.” He moved lower and scraped his teeth over her ribs, sending a thrilling chill through her. “And here.” Still lower, he bit her hip as her panties dropped to her ankles. “And here.” His fingertips played over the backs of her calves. “Your whole body will be covered with welts.”
She shivered from head to toe, feeling her fantasies come even more into focus. She was really here.
