Waiting for Him by Natalie Dae Read Free Book Online

me dipping a finger into my wetness or rubbing that swelling ball of nerves that he would later take into his mouth and suck. He was a master at knowing exactly how much pressure to apply, how long I could go with him teasing me before the excitement reached a level I couldn’t return from. Many times I thought I had arrived, only for him to take his mouth away, trail his tongue over other parts of my body until the burn, that nearly all-consuming burn, faded a little.
    I groaned, jerked my hand away from where it had been heading—to the soft, delicate flesh between my legs, growing wetter by the second—let go of the window frame and knitted my fingers together. The safest thing to do, that. My breath hitched as he swung the car into the driveway and sped along the gravel, coming to a lurching stop right in front of the house. He was home, and our weekend trying something new was about to begin. Swallowing again, then breathing deeply to calm my racing heart, I remained at the window to watch him emerge. So he could see me naked. He flung open the car door, so hard that it rocked on its hinges, and got out, glancing up at me with a look so intense I knew he’d fought through his day too.
    He’d ran his hand through his dark hair several times today if the mess of it was anything to go by—a tousled, cunt-spasming mess that reminded me of how it looked after my fingers had travelled through it. It had grown some over the past month. Gone were the shorter spikes, replaced by soft waves long enough for me to grip in tight fists. I wanted his hair in my hands now, the ends of it brushing my palms, tickling for a second or two before I gripped hard and held his head steady as he lapped my slit.
    His dark grey suit, crinkled at the inner elbows, flapped open revealing his usual white shirt. I made out the darker hue of his skin beneath it, and the even darker circle of nipple. I wanted to take it into my mouth and tease it into a tight nub. Swirl my tongue around it and flick-flick-flick. To hear him groan, to say if I sucked any longer he’d come. Please don’t, Anna. Stop. I’m going to…
    Another breeze gusted, lifting his tie and leading it into a merry dance before depositing it, askew, flat against his chest. With eyes the colour of dark coffee and only a hint of milk, he regarded me intently, studying me to see if I’d disobeyed him. He would read the guilt on my face in an instant if I had, and I smiled a quick flash to let him know I’d been a good girl.
    He cocked his head, a faint smile of his own eager to break out, doused by his ability to control his emotions. He felt , I knew that, but the power he had over himself never failed to astound me. A perfect Dom, my Kline. A perfect man in my eyes.
    He closed the door, gaze still on me, and half-walked, half-ran to the house. I couldn’t see him then, the porch roof prevented that, so I listened to the sounds of him entering. His keys tinkled as they met the hallway table. The door shut with a crisp snap—a similar sound to the paddle as it met with my ass—and once again my heart picked up speed. I yearned to go and meet him, to rush down the stairs, breathless and wanting, but he’d told me this morning to remain up here when he arrived. I would follow his orders, of course I would, and coached myself calm, told myself breaking the rules, disobeying his instructions wasn’t how we played the game. The end result was never as fulfilling if I disregarded his instructions.
    Would he come up here immediately or have me wait? Would he call my name, tell me what he wanted me to do next, or remain silent? Not knowing heightened my desire, and I wrapped my arms around my ribs, brought my legs closer together in order to feel the wet slickness as my inner thighs rubbed one another. How could a man make a woman so wet at just the thought of him? How had he burrowed so deeply into my heart?
    With no sign of him coming upstairs, I let my mind wander—I needed