That just heightened the burn. She was supposed to be teasing him, and it seemed as though he was in complete control and she was the one out of control. She sent him one emotion-laden look that should have said everything to him, and she slipped from the barstool to walk to the table. She knew he was watching so she put a little extra sway in her walk. When she got to the high-backed, gleaming cherry-wood chair, she pulled it out and walked around it, as if studying it from every angle.

“What are you doing, Siena?” he asked, placing bowls of steaming food on the highly polished wood of the table. She was surprised to see he wasn’t typical in that he put hot pads beneath each bowl.

“I’m considering the best way to sit without getting my skirt damp.” She caught the sides of the material and began to slowly bunch it into her hands. Inch by slow inch. Brought it from her ankles to her knees. “I really like this skirt and I don’t have very many clothes that are a comfortable fit for me anymore.”

She drew the soft, silky material right up over her thighs. Watching him watch her. She saw the gathering lust there in his eyes. The hunger. She kept talking. Kept working the skirt up. She had a surprise for him. That had set the burn in her off. The thought of her surprise and the look on his face. She’d walked all the way from the bedroom, through the house, knowing he would love what she did. She’d taken her time in the bathroom, cleaning every inch of her.

Siena kept pulling up her skirt, letting the feel of the soft material against her thighs heighten her need. She knew the exact moment he saw her smooth, completely bare sex open to him, to his every touch, his tongue. His breath hitched in his lungs and his face went dark. Sensual.

“Turn the chair toward me.”

She did so and immediately sank down onto the seat of the chair because, really, the look in his eyes destroyed her ability to even stand.

“Open your thighs for me,” he ordered.

And it was an order. He wasn’t fooling around. Or teasing. He was a hungry alpha male and she was his prey. Deliberately she moved her knees apart, but only a few inches. Just enough to give him a glimpse of her damp, pulsing flower.

“Slide your ass forward, right to the edge of the chair, lean back and widen your thighs, Siena.”

She loved that hard edge to his voice. Rough. Hungry. Demanding. A fresh flood of liquid heat pulsed deep. She obeyed him, leaning back and widening her thighs. At once, the cool air hit her and she swore steam rose. She dropped her hand to her thigh, sliding her fingers up the inside, needing to be touched.