Read The Mammoth Book of Erotica Presents The Best of Saskia Walker for Free Online Page B

He toyed with the pen, his eyes assessing. Her breath was trapped in her throat. A moment later, he slowly moved one hand and held her wrist down on the counter with it, while he began to write on the spot she had indicated with the other.
    His hand around her wrist was warm and strong and sure. And then – oh. The pressure he applied through the ballpoint on her skin made her nerves leap, the sensation chasing itself up her arm and through her body, flooding her with arousal. She bit her lip.
    He looked up from the place he was writing and back at her. She could tell he’d sensed this wasn’t just about exchanging numbers. A needy moan escaped her lips.
    He stared; one eyebrow lifted, the pen, also. “Did I hurt you?”
    “No.” She could barely get that one small word out, and when she did, it was with a breathless, relieved sigh. She shrugged. “I’m wired weird. I just wanted you to know. Up front.”
    She snatched her arm away, bracing herself for the disbelieving laughter, the snide remark. Tension hung in the air between them, seemingly endless. Then he looked down at the countertop. What was he thinking?
    He glanced up. “Kinky girl, huh?”
    She stared him directly in the eye, her heart beating fast as she braced herself for rejection. “Does it bother you?”
    “Quite the opposite,” he replied, and flashed her a grin. “If I know what turns you on, it gives me power . . . and it just so happens I like to be in charge.”
    Oh, that made her hot. It was so far from what she had expected him to say, so direct. And then he moved. In a heartbeat, he levered himself over the counter, jumping lithely down onto her side of it. For the first time, he had breached the physical divide between them – and he’d brought the pen with him. Holding it raised in his hand, he put his free hand on her shoulder and walked her through the rails of plastic-covered clothes, backing her toward the wall behind those rails, out of sight of the shop front. He cornered her up against the wall.
    Her body pulsed with the thrill of his actions.
    He grasped her two hands easily in one of his, and lifted her chin with the pen under her jaw, an action that shot sensation down her neck and chest, right into her hardening nipples. She gasped for breath, her eyes closing and her head moving back to lean against the wall.
    “Oh yes, it really does it for you, doesn’t it? How bad is it?”
    He still had the pen under her jaw, controlling the position of her head and where she could look. Could she tell him? Her eyes were shut and she kept them that way. “I need it.” Her voice was a mere murmur. “I can’t come any other way, not the way I do if . . .”
    When her voice trailed off, he moved the pen just enough to apply pressure to the sensitive flesh beneath her jaw. Her eyes flashed open.
    “Is this making you wet?”
    “Yes.” He was close, staring at her, his eyes bright and focused. The curiosity she had sensed in him had multiplied. He was aroused by her responses, his body shifting close against hers, one knee pressed against the wall at the side of her body.
    He gave a soft chuckle. “You know, Molly, I used to wonder about you. I liked the way you looked, very pretty but different, and always thinking . . . always with the sexy eyes. There was something else though, wasn’t there? You were always playing with your pen, always sucking on the end of it. Couldn’t just be ready for the next customer, I figured. Couldn’t quite work out what it was, but it made me hard just watching you play with the damn thing.” His voice turned husky, right at the end there.
    “Are you hard now?” She flashed her eyes, her responses rolling out readily.
    His grip on her wrists tightened and he moved the back of her contained hands against the zipper on his jeans. “Well, what do you think?”
    Beneath the black denim he wore, his cock was rigid.
    Her skin tingled with awareness when he brushed it over that spot. She nodded. He