17. Rosalyn

SEVENTEEN

ROSALYN

Nathan's large hand squeezes my breast, and I groan against his lips.

My head is spinning in the best way, and I let my newfound boldness take over.

I trace my fingers along the top of his pants until my hands are over his belt buckle.

I felt it earlier. The hardness pressing into me as he backed me in here.

And I want to feel more.

I curl my fingers into the top of his pants.

His hips jump.

And I scrape my teeth over his tongue.

He groans.

I reach in farther, my fingers between the fabric of his pants and his tucked-in shirt.

And then I feel it.

The base of his cock.

A very thick cock.

My pointer and middle finger spread, trying to get a feel for his size .

We both moan at the contact. And we both break away at the same time, looking down between us.

My hand shoved down Nathan's pants.

His hand covering half my chest.

I've only ever been with men smaller than me.

My height or shorter. Men who weighed less than me. Slender limbs.

Men I felt safer around simply based on size.

But Nathan… He's the biggest man I've ever been this close to.

Biggest… everywhere.

And yet, even as he tightens his hand in my hair, even as he holds me captive, I've never felt safer.

A new warmth—one that feels a lot like gratitude—fills my body.

The hand on my chest slips away, and Nathan uses it to grip my wrist.

He keeps his hand there a moment, and his cock twitches between my fingers, but then he pulls my hand free of his pants. "Me first."

I'm not sure what he means, but he lifts my hand to his chest, and I instinctively cling to him.

"Now be my good girl and stay quiet." He uses my ponytail to pull my face closer to his. "Can you do that?"

I flex my fingers against his chest muscles. "I'll try."

His lips brush against mine. "If you're only going to try, then we should probably hurry."

The comment reminds me that we're in my client's pantry, behind a door that doesn't lock.

But then Nathan slides his hand down the front of my pants, and I can't think anymore.