“You’re gorgeous, especially with your hair down like this,” I tell her. And then, I’m unable to keep my hands from molding against the sides of her narrow waist where her hair ends, sliding them lower, over her much wider hips. She’s got the perfect hourglass figure, and I have no clue why she doesn’t ever flaunt it.
With the front of her body blocking the view in the mirror, I take a step closer to her to look over her left shoulder as my palms curve around her hips. Only my thumbs touch the curve of her ass before they slide to the short hem of her dress. There I’m touching her smooth skin instead of the jagged sequins.
I thought for sure Madison would’ve swatted my hands away before she let them go so far, but her fingers are still tightly gripping the sides of the sink counter and her face doesn’t look the least bit angry. No, with her hair trailing down her shoulder, over one of her breasts, her eyes have darkened, and she looks…hungry. I want to give her exactly what she’s craving, but not until she tells me to. The last thing I want is to make any assumptions, especially when it’s only been a week and a half since she was attacked in her house by two strange men.
“Are you ready to go out now?” I ask her.
She shakes her head before I hear the word from her lips. “No.”
“You need more convincing?”
“Yes.” That one word is so soft I barely hear it, but I saw her lips moving.
Bending my head, I watch her watching me in the mirror and let my lips graze lightly over her bare skin next to the thin strap of her dress. Instead of breaking the spell, Madison’s body melts a little before her bottom presses back against the front of my hips as if encouraging me to keep going.
I let one of the fingers on each hand tease underneath the short hem of her dress, making it inch up as I press my lips more firmly to her shoulder, this time, on the other side of the strap closer to her neck. “Are you wearing any panties under here?” I ask when I slide my right hand down her bare thigh and then slide it up under her dress.
“Yes.” This time her voice is a little louder, clearer but still breathless.
“What color?” My lips kiss her shoulder again, moving closer and closer to her neck.
“I-I can’t remember,” Madison replies as she tips her head to the side as if she wants my mouth to keep going.
“You don’t remember.” My lips smile as they make their first contact with her neck, causing her to gasp and her eyes to nearly close. She shakes her head right before my fingertips move higher up her right thigh, so that if I stretched my finger up, I could probably touch the panties in question.
Madison’s chest is moving up and down, faster and faster, drawing my attention to her sexy cleavage. And while I would love to get my mouth on her tits, that probably wouldn’t do her much good, and I’m trying not to get distracted from my purpose here.
“Can I see them?” I ask before I press my lips right below her ear.
“What?” she asks. Her eyes are fully closed, and her brow is furrowed. Now she can’t remember what we were talking about just seconds ago because she’s so turned on. I know I have skills, but most women take a little more than my mouth on their neck and a hand on their thigh before they get so easily distracted. I thought Madison would still be uptight and in control, giving orders even when a man was inside of her. Looks like I was wrong.
“Can I see your panties, Madison?”
Her response isn’t the one I was expecting when she says, “Please.” That one word makes my cock go rock hard, because I’m pretty sure she’s begging me to do more than lift her skirt and see what’s underneath.
My fingers are nearly frantic when they grab the sequins on either side and yank her dress up over her hips and further, until I see her belly button and the white lace thong with blue flowers underneath.
Fuck.
Even her panties are classy and sexy as hell. They probably cost a fortune and were probably meant for the eyes of some lawyer or doctor who wants to put a ring on her finger, not an unemployed, playboy biker.
I hate that goddamn thought.
The two of us couldn’t be more different. And there are a million reasons why I should back off and leave her right now. But she’s desperate and aching for someone to touch her, so by God, it’s going to be me this one time.
I grab her so roughly, so possessively through those delicate panties, that Madison gasps and her eyes fly open to watch in the mirror. No woman has ever felt this wet, this hot before I even get her panties off. The lace is soaked.
Some of that dazed look washes away and is replaced with a glowing redness across her cheeks. She’s embarrassed. Not because I’ve got her dress hiked up around her waist and am touching her, but because she didn’t want me to feel how affected she is by my touch.
I realize I’ve been holding my
