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The sly bastard brushed his fingers over my nipples for the shortest period of time before letting his hand find my waist again.

He didn\'t utter a single word and he held me firmly. He stood up, holding me against him: his chest pressed against mine. I wrapped my legs around him, instinctively and leaned into him. I let my head rest on his shoulder.

I tried to distract him with kisses. He shook his head and then took us up the stairs.

This is what it feels like to be taken care of, I realized.

He placed me onto the bed gently. Something I hadn\'t expected from him. He adjusted his pants and then winked at me. I tried to pull up and go nearer, but he shook his head.

His hands vanished behind him. In a matter of moments, I saw him pull his gun out.

I quirked my brow at him.

I waited for it.

He pointed it towards my head, from what I saw, if he pulled the trigger it would get me right between the eyes. In the blink of an eye, he moved and pulled out the bullets, each of them dropping to the floor one after the other. He saved one, though. He placed it in one hand, and the gun in the other. He went around the bed and placed them on his bedside table.

I followed each movement curiously.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, curiosity getting the best of me.

"Trust me, you will find out in time," he told me with a cocky smirk as he sauntered back between my legs.

"You\'d actually shoot me?" I asked him. He raised his brow and grasped my knees. I kept them tight shut, but his hands pressed harder. "Would you?"

"If you gave me a reason, yes," he told me. I recoiled from his touch and then shot my foot out to get him in the stomach. He grasped my ankles before I could reach him and pulled me closer. "I love you," he affirmed. My legs fell open for him; my hands gripped the sheets as he leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. My hands loosened on the sheets and went for his hair. Yanking him closer, I pushed my hips up. He placed one hand on my hip to push me down again. I swore under my breath and he chuckled.

"Patience, my kitten." His lips trailed down my chin... down my neck and stopped at my sternum. My eyes fluttered open as he placed an open-mouthed kiss there. Breath hitching, I let my hands travel from his hair to his forehead. I pushed the unruly hair to find him staring at me. His lips remained the only part of him that touched me.

He moved away suddenly. I lurched forward to hold on, but he stopped me with a glare.

"Up," he ordered as he played with the hem of my shirt. It came off easily as I arched my back. He moaned as I did. "Fuck," he muttered.

"Have you ever used this method to torture a prisoner, Anthony?"

"No... I\'ve never wanted to keep a prisoner until you."

"I\'m that special, huh?" he answered me by wrapping his lips around my nipples. Tingles shot across my nerves. Just looking at him made me wonder. What next?

What next?

Seeming to comprehend my thoughts, he tapped on my hip bones and then teased the edge of my pants. I arched up, again, desperately seeking the friction that he was denying me.

"Hush," he whispered as he slipped his hands into my pants. I nearly shot off the bed when he made a careless pass at my clit. "No panties?" he asked, breathlessly, already knowing the answer.

"I believe that good air circulation keeps the body healthy," I gasped as he rubbed my folds.

"Yes, air circulation is very important," he agreed, pressing his hips to mine.

Finally!

My lungs almost collapsed as I felt him press against me, hard and insistent.

He wants me...

He really wants me...

At that moment I had no doubt in my mind.

He sucked at my flesh and pressed his fingers into my wet folds. I groaned as the pressure on my entrance increased.

"Michael," I warned. His lips left me and set on smirking.

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