A quick exhale, a roll of her shoulders to loosen the tension, back straight, and it’s showtime. Merde.

Wyatt opened the door, wearing that lazy half-smirk he seemed to reserve just for her, a pair of low hanging sweatpants, and not much else. The bastard knew his way around a smile. It was the type of lopsided grin that said he was up to no good and held a promise that she would enjoy every second.

Also, that man was too gorgeous for his own good. Mia hated that just the sight of him in nothing but a pair of sweats made her wet faster than she could think of a witty jab.

He took a step back, clearing the way for her to enter, his gaze following her every move. “You’re late.”

“I was trying to decide, wear something that would force you to work harder? Or give into the inevitable and just throw on a camisole dress.”

Slowly, Mia peeled off the layers of clothes covering her body, feeling Wyatt’s hot gaze on her back the entire time. She kept her coat for last, sliding it off her arms and hanging it next to her scarf before turning to face Wyatt.

“I see you went with the latter.” Wyatt’s blazing gaze made her nipples go hard under the silky black fabric. The thin garment did nothing to hide her body’s reaction, and Wyatt’s eyes focused on the hardened peaks, the growing bulge in his sweats an indication she had made the right choice.

Good. There isn’t much point in denying they wanted to fuck, it was just a matter of who broke first.

“Oui, I figured I’ll make you work hard for my orgasm instead.”

“Drink?” Wyatt offered instead of a comeback, and Mia nodded. Might as well take off the edge, plus she was always harder to get off after a bit of alcohol, but no need to disclose that small detail.

Pulling out two cordials, Wyatt poured them each a serving of eau de vie de pear.

He raised the clear liquid to his lips without so much as a tip of it in her direction, which Mia perceived as extremely rude but not at all surprising. She wouldn’t expect anything else from a brute like Wyatt Jenkins. Following his lead, she sipped on the clear liquid and let the aromatic burn flood her senses, calming the awareness prickling up her spine from Wyatt’s penetrating gaze.

They were engaging in a silent game of dare, waiting to see which one of them would make the first move, the air thickening with the promise of sex with every passing second.

It was maddening, the small sips they took in tandem, the building tension, Mia’s pounding heart that she was sure Wyatt could hear across the breakfast bar. She was close to her breaking point, emptying the last of the fruity spirit from her glass, when Wyatt circled the bar, bottle still in hand, and poured them both a second serving.

He didn’t wait for her to savor another taste, instead pressing his firm body to hers and placing the bottle on the breakfast bar behind her. His thick fingers wove into Mia’s hair, lightly tugging to tilt her head back.

His kiss was soft and imploring, and before she could think better of it her palm smoothed over the hard dips and ridges of his chest to rest on his hip, a contented sigh leaving her lips.

Wyatt broke the kiss with a devil’s grin, and it took Mia a few moments to snap out of her daze and for realization to hit her.

“Enfoiré.” She pushed against his chest, frustrated that he had played her so easily and that she had so easily given in, but Wyatt only pressed more firmly into her body, his erection taut against her belly, reminding her how big he had felt in her palm earlier that morning.

He looked at her, waiting, and Mia realized he was waiting for her permission to proceed. She took a moment to think. Yes, he was an animal, a brutish asshole that her body seemed to want more than she could remember wanting anyone in her life. Wyatt would use that to taunt her, break her resistance, as he’d just shown her. Now it was up to Mia to decide if this was a game she was willing to play.

Without a word Mia tossed back the entirety of her cordial, savoring the intense burn, letting it fuel her anger, and placed the glass behind her.

“Are we going to bed now?” she asked, sticking out her chin and staring daggers at Wyatt.

“You haven’t earned my bed yet, Prickly Pear.” Wyatt’s russet eyes were full of a dangerous kind of hunger, her thighs slickening under his intense gaze, unwavering from her face even as he swallowed down the remainder of his drink and placed his glass next to hers. “You promised to make me work for it, let’s see if you can uphold that, shall we?”

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“Jealous?” Wyatt leaned close, the aroma of fruity spirit mixed with the delicate scent of an earthy forest filled Mia’s nostrils, sending pleasurable shivers down her spine. “Don’t worry, you’re going to be full of me soon enough.”

Trailing his fingers down each side of Mia’s neck and over her shoulders, Wyatt dragged the straps of her camisole down her arms, leaving a trail of tingling electricity as his fingers gently grazed her flesh until her camisole slid off her body, becoming a puddle around her feet.

“Look how turned on you are, Mia,” Wyatt rumbled into her ear, his hands moving to cup her breasts, pinching a hard nipple before taking it into his warm mouth to soothe the sting. “Are you really going to fight all the pleasure I’m going to give you tonight?” He repeated the process with the other nipple, and Mia’s eyes rolled back in her head, her teeth digging into her lip to stop a moan from escaping.

Mia gripped the counter behind her as one of Wyatt’s palms slid up her inner thigh, his other hand smoothing the other direction to her face, where he pushed two fingers into her mouth.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, so goddamn frustrating.”

Mia was burning, everything was a fiery haze and she barely held on to that part of herself that refused to give Wyatt the satisfaction of so easily succumbing.

While his fingers gently pumped her mouth, another pair touched the satiny black fabric between her legs. A low growl tore from his chest, his gaze lifted to hers and there was something deliciously feral in his eyes.

“You’ve soaked your panties through,” Wyatt gritted through a clenched jaw, pressing his fingers firmly against her pussy.

At the surge of pleasure, Mia bit down on the digits in her mouth and Wyatt pulled them out with a hiss, eyes blazing as he reached out and dragged one wet finger up the column of her throat, hooking it under her chin and tilting her face up and forcing her eyes to stay on his.

Mia gasped when he roughly pulled her panties aside and pushed the two teasing fingers into her, and she leaned back against the bar for support as Wyatt pumped his thick fingers inside her.

“Won’t be… that easy…” she was panting, fighting the pleasure that was bursting at the seams of her skin. She was ready to come undone, but she was in no way ready to lose, and that drive ended up with the upper hand.

Wyatt caught her around the throat and pulled her to him, crashing his mouth against hers with an almost deranged desire. Mia’s hands flew from the counter into his mass of dark honey hair, the moan she’d been fighting so hard to deny him swallowed by their kiss. He could feel the burn as well, Mia was sure of it, and it strengthened her resolve to hold back, push him to the breaking point first.

She was gasping for air when Wyatt pulled away, pushing her panties down and turning Mia to face the counter. His tongue slowly glided over her spine, crack to nape, the rustle of foil as he took his time tasting her skin was almost disappointing. She’d wanted to gain the upper hand, but she was hoping for more resilience on Wyatt’s part.

Just as she was about to dish out a mock, he returned his fingers, pressing deep inside her from behind. She was already so wired it took engaging every ounce of her brainpower not to climax.

Wyatt’s hot breath feathered against her ear. “Give in, Prickly Pear, I know you’re dying to come.”

“You’ll have to work harder than that.” Mia steeled herself, blocking out the desperate signals her body was sending her – the ache between her legs, the throbbing need to have the thick cock currently rubbing against her back fill her. She wished he hadn’t turned her. Mia had a feeling his cock was magnificent, and in any other scenario she would have fulfilled her curiosity as well as her desires, but what was the fun in letting Wyatt win?

Wyatt’s pace increased, his other hand joining the first, circling to the front and finding her clit. Mia leaned forward on the counter to brace herself, grinding her teeth to hold back the sounds of pleasure eager to burst out. The cold marble was making her nipples painfully tight, her breath coming out in short pants as her body fought against her mind in a battle of determination and will.

“Damn it, Mia, you’re too fucking stubborn,” Wyatt snapped in a frustrated growl, grabbing the underside of her knee and lifting it to the counter.

Mia couldn’t hold back the cry of pleasure when Wyatt slammed deep into her, nor could she stop the flood of pure bliss that wiped out everything else as he relentlessly pounded into her with accuracy and intent in every movement.

More than the size of him, it was the absolute control Wyatt had of his body that was driving Mia to the edge of madness. He wasn’t playing anymore, he was demanding that she yield to this insanity between them, and Mia was powerless to resist any longer.

Sweet release washed over her, her entire body quaking from the force. Guttural cries flowed from her lips until she slumped forward on the countertop, heaving for breath, thankful for the cool marble against her burning skin.

Wyatt slid out of her, tracing the single stem rose tattooed over her spine with surprising delicacy before helping her up.

“You didn’t climax.” She was both relieved and annoyed at the fact, and Wyatt chuckled, pulling her close and waiting for her gaze to meet his.

“Since I wasn’t planning on fucking you until I made you come, we’ll call it a draw.” He pressed his lips softly to hers. “Don’t look so disappointed, we’re going to continue this in bed.”

“Remind me again, what’s so special about your bed?” she asked when he turned towards the closed door at the other side of the living room.

“It’s what I do on my bed that’s special,” he answered from over his shoulder, the hard muscles of his back and ass flexing temptingly as he led the way.

He truly was a vision of male perfection, his tapered form well-defined though not overly pumped, with broad shoulders and strong arms, narrowing slightly at the hips, his smooth skin tanned to the color of demerara sugar.

“Enlighten me.” Instead of answering, Wyatt turned around and swept Mia into a deep kiss, his tongue thrusting into her mouth and swiping through it in a way that made her weak at the knees.

“Did you like that, Mia?” he whispered, and she responded by grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him in for more toe-curling tongue action. “Now imagine my tongue doing that to your pussy.”

“Mon Dieu,” she moaned with a shaky breath.

“I love eating pussy, Mia, but I don’t just go and do it with any girl,” his rumbly voice was low in her ear as his thick finger glided between her still sensitive lower lips. “Only the ones that end up in my bed, and that hasn’t happened in a long time.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” he answered in his deep voice full of sinful promise. “And I’m starving.”