Ignited Page 27

My heart fluttered. “Yes.” And then I remembered the books I’d read, the movies I’d seen. “Yes, sir,” I added, and was rewarded with an amused curve to his lips. “And the second thing?”

“I want you in my bedroom,” he said. “And, Kat? I want you naked.”

I grinned. “Funny. I want that, too.”


When he came into the bedroom with the wine and our glasses, I was sitting on the end of his bed naked, my fingers lightly stroking my sex. He paused just inside the doorway, then slowly raked his gaze over me, starting at my toes and then moving up to meet my eyes.

“How very bold you’ve become, blondie.”

How right he was. I was shameless with this man. Wanting everything, and more than willing to play dirty to get what I wanted.

Right then, I was playing as dirty as I knew how. I arched my back, spread my legs just a bit wider, and slowly thrust two fingers deep inside myself. “I was hoping to give you ideas,” I said. “Like subliminal suggestions.”

His mouth twitched. “Oh, really?”

“I want you to fuck me, Cole. I want your cock inside me.” I moved my hips in time with my fingers, and saw the way that he watched the show—and the way he was watching got me even hotter. “I intend to get what I want. I promise you, I can be very persuasive.”

“I bet you can,” he said. He put the wine and the glasses on a nearby table and took a single step toward me. “I believe I told you to come in here, get undressed, and lay down on the bed while I went and got some wine.”

“You said that,” I admitted. “I think I mentioned that I’ve never been very good at following the rules.”

“I assume you know what happens to girls who are naughty?” He gave the drawstring on his sweats a tug, then let them fall from his hips to the ground. He stepped out of them, then walked naked toward me, fully erect, huge, and intimidating as hell.

I swallowed, then shifted my gaze up from his cock to his face. I stood up and walked toward him. “Just so you know, I intend to be even more naughty.”

I put my hands on his hips, then sank to my knees in front of him. Slowly—so deliciously slowly—I ran my tongue along the length of his erection, pausing to pay special attention to the tip.

He shuddered, then moaned, then said my name, his voice hoarse and full of longing. I didn’t reply. Instead, I drew him in, then tasted him, teased him—took him as far as I could.

I clutched his ass with my hands, felt the way his hands twined in my hair, the way he took control of my head and the rhythm of my thrusts, making me go farther and deeper than I had been.

I liked it—knowing I was making him harder. Hotter. Knowing that he wanted this and that it was me who was making his pleasure grow, making this tension and passion build up so hard and so fast. He was close—so damn close. I could tell from the tightness of his body and the way his fingers tightened in my hair. I could tell from the tempo of his breath and the way small shudders burst through his body, radiating all the way through me.

He was going to come—and damned if knowing that didn’t make me even hotter. I was so wet, so turned on that I thought I might come, too, simply from the pleasure of knowing that I took Cole August over the edge.

And then, without warning, he stepped back, pulling me off him so that I was sitting on my heels, gasping and wet and desperate to finish him off. To feel him explode and know that I did that—that I brought him there.

“On the bed,” he said, his voice all command and sensuality.

I must have hesitated, because he took my arm and lifted me to my feet, then slid his hand between my legs to stroke my sex. My knees went weak, and I sank onto his hand, so it was only the pressure of his palm cupping my sex that kept me from falling.

“Mine,” he said, then thrust two fingers inside me. “Christ, Kat, do you know how much I want you? How hard I’m going to fuck you?”

“Show me,” I said, and he lifted me up and put me on the bed. I lay on my back, but he made a circular motion with his finger. “Knees and elbows. Legs spread. I want to see your cunt. I want to see how wet you are, how much you want me. And I want to see your ass turn red when I spank you.”

I felt something shift and tighten inside me as I complied. Anticipation, yes. Longing, most definitely. But a little bit of fear, too. Because there was an intensity in his voice that hadn’t been there when he’d spanked me earlier, and that hint of fear—of not knowing what was coming or what he had planned—made me all the more excited.

“Oh, baby.” His hands stroked the globes of my rear, and I bit my lower lip as he spread me wide then slid his hand down to find me drenched and wanting. “Right here,” he said, teasing me with his finger. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby. Tell me that’s what you want.”

“Yes.” I could barely get the word out past the storm of emotion rattling through me.

“Tell me,” he said. “I want you to say it.”

“I want you to fuck me, Cole. Please.”

“I think you can do better than that,” he said, sliding his fingertip down to flick lightly over my clit. I gasped, as sparks and shocks raced over my skin. My nipples burned they were so hard, and my sex throbbed with a need so desperate I wasn’t sure that he could ever fuck me long enough or hard enough to satisfy.

“Kat,” he urged, thrusting his finger back inside me, then trailing his drenched fingertip up to tease my anus.

I sucked in air. “I want your cock. I want you to hold me tight and thrust into me. I want it hard, Cole. I want you to pound inside me, over and over, until I can’t stand it anymore. And then I want to explode.”

“What else?”

“Oh, god, isn’t that enough?”

He chuckled. “Frustrated, baby?”

“You know I am.”

“Then stop teasing, and tell me.”

I realized what he wanted me to say. What he’d told me he wanted to do. And, yes, what I wanted as well. “I want you to spank me.”


“Cole . . .” I shifted, feeling open and exposed, and not just because I was naked with his hand between my legs.

I waited for him to say something else, but he stayed silent, and I knew that this was part of my punishment, too—exposing myself to Cole. Not my body, but my whole self. My desires. My everything.

“I liked the way it felt,” I admitted, my voice so soft I knew he was having to work to hear it. “There was pain, but it was so sharp and so pure—and I was already so turned on that it was like—like it was bigger than pain. Like it was electricity, and it was sparking through me, making the whole experience bigger and fuller. I don’t know,” I finished lamely. “I just know I liked it. And,” I added before he could ask, “I want more. I want harder, Cole. I want to go farther. I want to go there with you.”

I waited for his reply. For him to tell me that I’d said what he wanted. Or, god help me, for him to demand I reveal even more of myself to him.

But Cole was done with words. Instead, his palm lightly stroked my rear. I sighed, relishing the pleasure of his touch. But I tensed, too, because I was certain that I knew what was coming.

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