Chapter 4

He seemed to freeze for a moment, and she was worried he might push her away, which would really destroy her confidence. She held her breath, her hand still wrapped around him, her mouth against the back of his neck, waiting for him to reach down and remove her hand or shift away or say her name in that particular tone Mark used when he wasn't in the mood.

He didn't do any of those things.

Instead, he exhaled. Long and slow, like something he'd been holding for a while, and the tension went out of him all at once.

She let out the breath she'd been holding.

Okay then. She'd gotten this far, and she needed to push through the nerves that the alcohol hadn't quite taken care of.

His breathing changed completely, deeper and almost unsteady, and she pressed her lips to the back of his neck again, grazing her teeth lightly along his skin. He shivered. That small involuntary thing moved through her like something warm poured into her chest. She had never made Mark shiver. She hadn't known that was something she was capable of. This taking the lead wasn't that bad at all if she was getting this reaction out of him.

She did it again.

His hand came back and found her hip, his big hand shaping her, rolling her hips toward him so more of her body was pressed against his back. The heat of him was like a drug. She moved her hand slowly down his hardened length before running her fingertips through the hair at its base, then removed her hand entirely. She didn't want him going off before she was ready.

She had a plan, slightly blurry around the edges but a plan nonetheless, and it did not end in the next few minutes.

She pressed her mouth to his shoulder blade and felt the muscle shift under her lips as he moved, adjusting, settling. His hand was still on her hip, warm and heavy, and she noticed the size of it again, the way she had when she'd first pressed herself against him. Large. Broader than she expected. Her senses were a little hazy, she reminded herself. Everything felt magnified tonight.

She unclipped her bra and let it fall somewhere over the side of the bed. Then she pressed herself back against him, bare breasts against his back. He made a guttural sound that shot heat straight to her core. She should have done this sooner, taken control after drinking enough to loosen the inhibitions that sometimes paralyzed her. She hoped next time she wouldn't need the drinks.

Groaning, he turned so he was facing her. The room was too dark to see his face properly. Just the shape of him, the line of his jaw. Her hand went to his chest, hot and solid under her palm, as she leaned down to kiss him there. His hand went into her hair.

She hadn't planned that. She'd been working her way there, and then her lips had found the solid muscle of his chest, and she'd stopped thinking about plans entirely. She moved her mouth slowly, exploring, and felt him draw a sharp breath above her. She used her hands as well, running her fingernail over his nipple before circling it with her thumb and finger. She didn't know what made her do it. She pinched and tugged at the same time, causing air to hiss through his teeth, which made her smile against his skin. She was surprising herself tonight at every turn, and she found she didn't mind it at all.

She pressed her lips to the centre of his chest and breathed him in. That was when she noticed it properly for the first time. He smelled different. Not wrong. Nothing about tonight felt wrong, but different from what she knew, different from what she knew as Mark. Warm skin and something underneath it, clean and dark and distinctly male, and she stayed there with her nose against his chest and breathed him in again, trying to place it. A different cologne maybe. She liked it. The smell did something to her insides. She thought she recognized it from somewhere but couldn't place where.

The drink, she decided. The drink changed things. The drink was responsible for a great deal tonight, and she was happy to keep adding to its tab.

She pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his chest and tasted salt on her lips and felt his hand tighten in her hair, encouraging her to continue. Her lips moved over the solid plane of his chest, and she ran her tongue slowly across his skin, tasting him. She felt the urge to touch herself but held off. She had never felt this hot this quickly with him before. Who knew doing it in the dark would be so liberating, giving her the freedom to explore without the self-consciousness that usually followed her into bed like an uninvited guest?

She moved her mouth across to his nipple and circled it with her tongue and heard the sound that pulled out of him, low and barely restrained, and the heat of it moved straight through her. She did it again and then grazed her teeth lightly across it, and he made a rougher sound and his hand fisted in her hair.

She sat up on her knees beside him, and he released her hair. She looked at the shadow of his face in the dim room. She could make out the line of his jaw, the shape of his mouth. Not enough to see him properly. That was exactly as much as she needed right now. She couldn't see the look in his eyes and could only judge him by his body's reaction to her.

She ran her fingernail slowly down the centre of his chest, watching the shape of him in the dark, and felt him go very still under her hand.

She leaned back down and pressed her lips to his collarbone, his throat, the underside of his jaw, tasting his skin as she went. Warm and slightly salty and that scent she still couldn't place, and she stayed close to his throat and breathed him in one more time.

His free hand found her waist in the dark and slid slowly up her bare side, his palm warm and unhurried, tracing the curve of her ribs. She felt the trail of it like he was mapping her, learning the shape of her the same way she was learning his. She arched into it without meaning to and felt his fingers spread wider against her skin in response.

He tried to speak. She felt the breath gather in his chest under her mouth, the preparation for words.

She lifted her head and covered his mouth with her hand, her palm warm against his lips.

"Don't talk," she murmured. "Just feel."

His breath came warm against her palm.

"Just feel, lover. I'm in charge tonight. I'm going to make you a very happy man." She knew they were big words, but she was going to do everything in her power to make them true.

She felt his lips press against her hand. She moved her hand away and replaced it with her mouth and kissed him slow and deep and felt him make that rough sound against her lips that went all the way through her. Even his kiss was different tonight, hotter, more focused, doing more for her than she had felt before.

She pulled back just far enough to breathe, and then she pushed him gently back against the pillow and swung her leg over him, settling herself across his hips, and they both went still at the same moment.

She could feel him through the thin fabric of her underwear, and the heat of it made her breath catch. She sat there for a moment, just adjusting to the reality of her own boldness, this version of herself sitting in the dark on top of a man and taking exactly what she wanted, and found she had absolutely no complaints about her.

She rolled her hips. Just slightly. Just testing the movement.

The sound he made was low and rough and not even a little controlled, and she felt it everywhere.

She did it again, clutched at his chest, loving the feel of him, and dropped her forehead to the curve of his shoulder at the junction of his neck.

He smelled so good from here. Right here, her face against his neck, his heart going hard and fast under her hands. His scent was driving her just as much as the alcohol was, warm and dark and still that something underneath it she couldn't name, and she stayed there longer than she needed to, just breathing him in.

When his hips rose fractionally under her, she sat up. His hands came to her hips, and she looked down at the shape of him in the dark and reached down and gathered both his wrists and pressed them up above his head against the pillow. Her bare breast brushed his face as she did it, and she heard his sharp intake of breath and knew he was as far gone as she was. It helped drive her need to prove herself even more. She wasn't pathetic or stiff after all.

She held his wrists pinned above his head and looked down at the shadow of his face.

"Oh no, big boy. This is my show. Keep them there," she said quietly.

He didn't argue. His hands stayed where she put them, and something about that, the simple fact of him doing as she asked, sent a heat through her she hadn't been prepared for.

She rolled her hips again, slower this time, making sure to rub her core against his length, and felt him strain against her instruction to stay still. The muscles in his forearms were tight under her fingers, and she could feel the effort it was costing him. She found she liked that enormously.

She leaned down close to his ear, her lips brushing the shell of it as she spoke.

"You feel so much better than I expected," she breathed. "So much better. Maybe I should take control more often… it feels different."

The sound he made at her words was loud and demanding. Like he needed her to do something about it.

He tried to speak again, but before even half a word could leave his mouth, her fingers covered his lips.

She pressed her lips to his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth as she removed her fingers.

"Don't," she whispered against his lips. "I've got you."

She kissed him before anything else could come out, and he kissed her back, and his hands stayed where she'd put them, and she rolled her hips, loving the feel of his straining length under her. She knew by the way she was feeling that tonight was going to be the best sex of her life.