Page 80 of Dirty Hot Valentine
Our breaths raced together, and even though my desire for her was pushing hard against all the walls I’d built with my experience and age, roiling, thundering, and I wanted nothing but to fist her hair, spin her and give her the spanking she deserved and then the fucking claim we both needed, I didn’t even blink. “Because I’ll remind you ofhim? Or because you wantmeto do it?”
“Both.”
Fuck, Angel. I knew she was changing her tactic, trying to take control, no longer on defensive mode. She was attacking. Hard and low and nasty. But how could I hold back now, hearing her say it?
You’re playing with fire, my sweet Angel, but I’m not going to let you win that easily.
“Except that your desire for me isn’t real,” I said.
“Mmhm. Not real.” Her gaze zeroed in on my lips. “For argument sake, what if it was real? What would you do about it?”
You don’t wanna know. Not now. But nice move, my Angel.I’ll give you that. Time for my counter move.
I brushed her forehead softly, smoothing her hair off her face. It was a simple touch but was enough to sear her. “I would…spank you harder until it stopped feeling good.”
“To punish me?” Her body throbbed.
Yes. And you’re gonna love it.But I was done playing for now. My cock couldn’t—wouldn’t—take another second in this tease. “To expel that silly feeling out of you for good.” I picked up a brush. “Close your eyes, Angelina.”
She frowned in disbelief. “Are you really doing my makeup?”
“Si, si. Are you doubting my skills, young lady?” For fuck’s sake! Why wasIteasing now?
“Are you trying to make me swear on purpose so you’ll have an excuse to spank me?”
That was me being the dirty old man I was who was thinking with his filthy fucking cock. “Who said I need an excuse?” I winked, and red painted her cheeks. I smirked, smug, knowing that I won. “Close your eyes, Angelina. I’m going to start with them until you stop blushing.”
She giggled—she never did with anyone else, and it made me even smugger—and did as she was told. Was she finally trusting me or praying I’d betray that trust and do something else entirely with her other than doing her makeup?
For the next seventeen minutes and thirty-sex seconds, I painted her beautiful face. I knew exactly how long I’d spent. I’d always kept count when I was around her, whether she could see me or not. It didn’t just sooth my compulsions or distract me. It was a necessity if I didn’t want her to catch me.
With every one of my strokes, every breath that feathered her face, she burned, squirmed. And when I touched her lips, the texture I’d now know by heart, and every time didn’t play fair with my demons, she moaned, her breath out of control. Her shudders as the sleeves of my suit jacket grazed her heaving breasts drove me out of my fucking kind. I bet she ruined her new panties and needed fresh ones.
I’d happily take them off and add them to my collection of all the others she soaked thinking about me. Then I’d make her even wetter before I cleaned her up with my tongue and helped her into a clean pair myself. My naughty little girl. My sweet Angel.
I tossed the brush and sighed. Then I moved to the back of the chair and massaged her scalp.
“You’re gonna do my hair, too?” she asked, no resistance in her voice, her eyes closed still and now relaxed.
“Yes. It’ll look better up.”
“What if I like it down?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’ll still wear it up.”
“Because you say so?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a possessive control freak, you know that?”
“Absolutely. Thank you for the precious insight.”
She snorted. “Do you think you have the right to control me because you’re paying for everything?”
Che cazzo? Was that really what she thought of me? “No.”
“Then why?”
