me to a climax more than once before he rose up above me, stripping his own clothes. I didn’t argue the point. I wanted him to slide into my wetness.
Here’s the thing, though. He read my mind. I could tell by the fast way he peeled his pants, the minute the idea flitted through my mind that I was wet enough to really get him going. Remember, he was trying to please me--fill my request. Maybe make amends for the shirt. Who knows?
It’s all a head game. I had to stop him. “No. Hold up.”
He had just tossed the slacks and was about to settle back between my legs. I scrambled up and away, licking my lips.
Again, he gave me that distrusting eye. “What are you doing?” There was a grin on his face, but he wasn’t real happy with me. Okay, I’ll admit, I’d left him--hanging--before.
Well, panting, anyway.
Maybe that’s why he kept coming back? I think every other bitch just backed up for him, and let him have whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He wasn’t used to the tease and taunt of foreplay and after-play that I gave him.
I didn’t answer his question. I just got up and walked into the other room, knowing he’d come after me. Usually when I did that, he backed me up against a wall and showed me the hard and furious side of his personality.
But I was ready to surprise him. With all those hours staring at the screen, looking for familiar names, I had plenty of time to think up scenarios to intrigue or mess with Hood by. Yes. I’m good at multi-tasking.
The minute he came through the door, I demanded, “Lie on the bed.”
So, Hood doesn’t take orders. Ever. From anybody. This was totally new to him. He immediately hesitated, obviously letting his mistrust and his true nature--of being the alpha in charge--move to the fore. He shook his head, “I don’t think so.”
At an impasse, we both had our feet planted wide, facing each other. Staring into one another’s eyes, clashing wills.
He read my mind again. I’d been going to service him.
I can always tell when I surprise him. He narrows his gaze--just for an instant. Then there’s a minute bit of wonder or appreciation that zips over his expression, but he’s careful not to say too much.
I licked my lips with a smile, letting my eyes flash a little triumph. “Shame,” I said. “You let your pride get in the way of a lot of things, Hood.”
He conceded that with the slightest of nods.
When he didn’t move or say anything else in response, I asked, “What are you thinking now?”
A devilish grin slipped onto his face. “I was wondering how you’d react if I said--”
I got laughing, interrupted him with, “Oh, please don’t say ‘on your knees, bitch’.”
So, okay, he didn’t. But that had been exactly what he’d been about to say. He asked, “You think that’s funny?”
“Well...yeah.” Dogs and men are so predictable sometimes.
He chewed on his lower lip, trying to figure me out. “I don’t get you.”
I scooted on over to him. “Why’s that?”
“You were going to--”
Stepping closer, tweaking his manhood with a quick grab, I asked, “What?”
To his credit, he didn’t jump.
“You’re a fucking tease.”
“You just noticed?”
“I just realized that you knew I would read your thoughts.”
“Hm.” I yanked. Not hard. Just enough to make him jerk a little--you know, defensive worry setting in.
“Stop that.”
Offering a pout, I asked, “You don’t really want me to, do you?”
“I want you to get serious.”
Always so serious.
Slipping around behind him, I tiptoed so I could whisper in his ear. “I am serious, Hood.” I let my fingers glide from his manhood, over his hip, across his buttocks, reached
Here’s the thing, though. He read my mind. I could tell by the fast way he peeled his pants, the minute the idea flitted through my mind that I was wet enough to really get him going. Remember, he was trying to please me--fill my request. Maybe make amends for the shirt. Who knows?
It’s all a head game. I had to stop him. “No. Hold up.”
He had just tossed the slacks and was about to settle back between my legs. I scrambled up and away, licking my lips.
Again, he gave me that distrusting eye. “What are you doing?” There was a grin on his face, but he wasn’t real happy with me. Okay, I’ll admit, I’d left him--hanging--before.
Well, panting, anyway.
Maybe that’s why he kept coming back? I think every other bitch just backed up for him, and let him have whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He wasn’t used to the tease and taunt of foreplay and after-play that I gave him.
I didn’t answer his question. I just got up and walked into the other room, knowing he’d come after me. Usually when I did that, he backed me up against a wall and showed me the hard and furious side of his personality.
But I was ready to surprise him. With all those hours staring at the screen, looking for familiar names, I had plenty of time to think up scenarios to intrigue or mess with Hood by. Yes. I’m good at multi-tasking.
The minute he came through the door, I demanded, “Lie on the bed.”
So, Hood doesn’t take orders. Ever. From anybody. This was totally new to him. He immediately hesitated, obviously letting his mistrust and his true nature--of being the alpha in charge--move to the fore. He shook his head, “I don’t think so.”
At an impasse, we both had our feet planted wide, facing each other. Staring into one another’s eyes, clashing wills.
He read my mind again. I’d been going to service him.
I can always tell when I surprise him. He narrows his gaze--just for an instant. Then there’s a minute bit of wonder or appreciation that zips over his expression, but he’s careful not to say too much.
I licked my lips with a smile, letting my eyes flash a little triumph. “Shame,” I said. “You let your pride get in the way of a lot of things, Hood.”
He conceded that with the slightest of nods.
When he didn’t move or say anything else in response, I asked, “What are you thinking now?”
A devilish grin slipped onto his face. “I was wondering how you’d react if I said--”
I got laughing, interrupted him with, “Oh, please don’t say ‘on your knees, bitch’.”
So, okay, he didn’t. But that had been exactly what he’d been about to say. He asked, “You think that’s funny?”
“Well...yeah.” Dogs and men are so predictable sometimes.
He chewed on his lower lip, trying to figure me out. “I don’t get you.”
I scooted on over to him. “Why’s that?”
“You were going to--”
Stepping closer, tweaking his manhood with a quick grab, I asked, “What?”
To his credit, he didn’t jump.
“You’re a fucking tease.”
“You just noticed?”
“I just realized that you knew I would read your thoughts.”
“Hm.” I yanked. Not hard. Just enough to make him jerk a little--you know, defensive worry setting in.
“Stop that.”
Offering a pout, I asked, “You don’t really want me to, do you?”
“I want you to get serious.”
Always so serious.
Slipping around behind him, I tiptoed so I could whisper in his ear. “I am serious, Hood.” I let my fingers glide from his manhood, over his hip, across his buttocks, reached
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