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1081 Words
Filip eased behind me, placing his hands on my hips and pulling me flush against him, his rock-hard length firm against my ass. “I want you at the club tomorrow night. Eight o’clock. And the next time you’re pissed with me, we talk it through. Understood?” His softly uttered words wrapped me in a comforting embrace. I wasn’t sure why, but he simply had that effect on me. I nodded in agreement. Filip buried his nose in my hair for a moment before pulling away. I turned to face him in time to catch him adjusting himself with a grimace. He shot me a raised brow when the corners of my mouth twitched with a grin. “One more thing before I go,” he drawled, eyes growing hooded. “Take off your panties.” My eyes darted around the room, and a host of concerns shot through my mind. “I need to get back out there, and—” “Camilla, look at me.” He waited until he had my full attention. “All I said was take off your panties. I know I’ve damaged your trust, but I won’t hurt you again.” I took in a steadying breath and eased my hand up under my skirt, hooking the edge of my black lace thong and slipping it off. Filip held out his hand. I placed the scrap of fabric in his palm and watched in shock as he deposited it in his jacket pocket. “But … I’m at a work dinner. I can’t … It’s not …” I failed to string together a complete sentence in my bewilderment. Filip stepped closer and clasped his hands around my arms, bringing his mouth close to my ear. “You can, and you will. You wanted this, remember? And I want you to spend the rest of your dinner consumed by thoughts of what tomorrow will bring.” He slowly pulled away and reached for the door. My mind was so overwhelmed by everything Filip that I wasn’t sure I could remember how to walk. He was a force of ruthless masculinity that disabled my every defense. He wanted me to think about our upcoming rendezvous; I doubted I’d be able to think of anything else. It was a good thing dinner was almost over. I followed Filip back to the dining area, where he gave me one last penetrating glance before disappearing around a corner. OceanofPDF.com 8 CAMILLA Filip messaged me just after lunch with instructions to text him when I arrived at the club. I took it as a good sign that he was trying. On the ride over, I struggled to squash my mounting nerves. At least I didn’t have to stress about what I was wearing now that I was more familiar with the club standards. I’d chosen a dress similar to the one I’d worn the first night, but this one was a rich forest green and not so short. It was sexy yet sophisticated, and I felt as confident as possible, considering the circumstances. Filip waited for me in the entry when I arrived. His ravenous gaze drank me in from my upswept hair down to my black-patent stilettos in an unhurried homage to my efforts. Heat blossomed beneath my skin everywhere his eyes lingered. When he completed his survey, he slowly stalked forward and slid one hand around to the back of my neck, pulling us close. His thumb caressed a possessive path over the corner of my jaw while his eyes dropped to my lips. I couldn’t breathe with him so close or while the intensity of his stare devoured me whole. For a fleeting moment, I got the sense he was going to say something, but he pulled away instead. “Let’s head upstairs.” The dark timbre of his voice brought to mind the deep resonating warning of a panther hidden in the shadows. Filip was ready to play. We went directly to Filip’s room where the curtains were drawn and the haunting strains of a string quartet played softly in the background. “No window tonight?” I asked as the door clicked shut. “I don’t want to share your attention tonight. You’ll concentrate on me and only me.” He had me intrigued, only adding to his alluring mystery when he prowled in a small circle around me. He closed in behind me and lowered the zipper to my dress. “You look stunning.” The whispered words kissed my ear and warmed my chest. Filip slipped the shoulders of my dress down and guided the fabric to the floor, revealing that I’d been bare underneath. His chest rumbled with masculine approval as he stepped around to my front and pulled something from his jacket pocket. Without a word, he ripped the small scrap of fabric —my thong from the night before. Knowing he’d kept it did strange things to my insides. With one more quick jerk, the garment was reduced to a ribbon of lace. He closed the distance between us, making my naked skin tingle with awareness. “Hands,” he ordered. I peered up at him warily, unsure I wanted to comply. His answering stare unraveled me at the seams with its raw honesty, rife with pleading and apology. “Please, Camilla. Let me show you how good it can be.” I extended my hands and reveled in his confident touch as he secured my wrists. The lace was the perfect length. His hands were strong and adept, the rough pads of his fingers surprisingly delicate against the sensitive underside of my wrists. How fast could a heart beat before it gave out? Mine was experimenting on the matter. Filip nodded toward the chaise in the corner. “Lay yourself over the arm.” The large, tufted piece was designed with a wide, rounded back and arm perfect for draping over. I doubted it was a coincidence. Resting the weight of my upper half on my arms, I followed his instructions and lay over the soft velveteen fabric. Off to the side, Filip removed his jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. The muscles in his neck flexed as he stared at my exposed backside and legs. When he moved from view, each of my senses strained and stretched to ascertain his next actions. Anticipation nudged me further toward a precipice. A cliffside overlooking the unknown.
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