Frozen Negotiations

Chapter Four

Grayson’s hand shifted, his fingers pressing harder against the denim seam. A low groan escaped him, a sound of pure, raw need. “You’re soaked through, Iris. I can feel the heat of you.”

“It’s your fault,” she breathed, her head falling back against his shoulder, exposing her throat. “You and your negotiations.”

“This is the only one that matters now,” he said, his voice a dark promise. He worked the button of her jeans, the snick loud in the silent dark. The zipper rasped down, and his hand slid inside, beneath her damp panties. His touch was no longer an exploration; it was a claim.

Two blunt fingers stroked through her slick folds, gathering her wetness. He let out a shuddering breath against her neck. “Christ. Here it is. All that chaos, that screaming noise. I can feel it pulsing right here.” He circled her c**t with a slow, maddening pressure, making her hips jerk. “It’s a f*****g riot.”

“Grayson…” His name was a plea.

“Tell me you want the silence,” he demanded, his fingers dipping lower, teasing her entrance but not entering. “Tell me you want my mouth on you until you forget your own name. Until the only thing you know is my tongue and my taste.”

“Yes,” she gasped, the word torn from her.

“And after,” he continued, his lips brushing her ear, his fingers finally pushing slowly, inexorably inside her. She was tight, clenching around him, and he groaned. “After I’ve made you come so hard you see stars, I’m going to fill you with my c**k. I’m going to f**k you until that quiet is permanent. Until all you are is mine, under me, taking everything I give you.” He pumped his fingers once, deeply, crooking them to find a spot that made her cry out. “But only if you give me control. Every last bit of it. Do you understand?”

His words were a spell, a dominant incantation that unspooled her completely. The shy part of her melted away, leaving only the submissive, adventurous core laid bare. This was the fantasy, crystallized in the frozen dark.

“I understand,” she whispered, turning her head to seek his lips in the darkness. She found them, and the kiss was bruising, possessive. When they broke apart, she gave him the final key. “It’s yours. All of it.”