“It shouldn’t be that way,” he says, his eyes holding mine like he can see all the broken pieces inside me. “It should be about respect. About what you want to have happen. It should bring you pleasure. The only screams coming out of your mouth should be when I’m making you come.”
My pussy clenches at the thought, a visceral response I’m too raw to hide. I swallow hard, and his lips curl slightly, like he knows exactly what effect he’s having on me.
“I love the way you look at me,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. His green-hazel eyes sparkle warmly at me, and I try to smile, but my mouth twitches nervously.
He notices, of course. “You do?” he asks, tilting his head slightly. “You didn’t look so sure just then.”
“Well, I’d like it—love it—if it didn’t make me feel so scared.”
“Do I have something in my teeth?” he jokes softly, his grin teasing but never mocking.
I laugh despite myself. “No, it’s just… the last time someone appeared to look at me in an adoring fashion—other than my cat when he wants a treat—was Timmy. And it’s part of what made me fall for him.”
His expression darkens, just a fraction. “So you don’t trust my eyes because of Timmy’s eyes? That doesn’t seem fair.” He pauses. “I’m not him.”
I’m caught. “I’m sorry,” I say, stepping closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He doesn’t flinch or pull away, just holds me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’m trying to make sure I don’t repeat past mistakes. And I know I’ve gotten better about setting boundaries, but I’m still working on trusting myself to notice the red flags.”
“What red flags have you noticed about me?” he asks, his tone light but curious.
“Oh, other than your awful taste in music?” I giggle, lightly punching his arm.
He grins, his face softening. “Well, you tell me if that changes.” Then, with zero warning, he scoops me up and hoists me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. I giggle uncontrollably as he carries me to the bedroom.
His hands trail down my back, strong and sure, before settling on my hips. He lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling the solid strength of him against me.
I giggle as my hair flies across his back, and my pussy clenches at the easy way he lifted me.
He carries me to the bed, lowering me gently onto the mattress.
His hands are huge, and much stronger than my own. He could really hurt me if he wanted to. But he never would. He would only use them to bring me pleasure, to care for me.
His eyes meet mine, searching. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice rough with restraint.
“You don’t need to ask me that,” I reply, my gaze steady. “I want you. And I don’t want you to be gentle. I’m not a delicate flower.”
His lips quirk into a wicked smile. “Careful what you wish for.”
And then he’s on me, wrapping his massive hand around the back of my neck, pulling my face to his, his mouth claiming mine with an intensity that makes my toes curl. This kiss is helping me, and I need a lot more healing.
His tongue explores mine while his other hand traces its way down my chest, and cups my breast through my shirt.
My nipples are rock hard, and only grow harder as he tugs on the delicate silver bars that run through them, sending little zaps of electricity down to my core.
I trail my hand from his neck down his muscular back and to his hip, and continue toward his thigh. He feels strong,solid under my touch. He’s so much bigger than me, and his masculinity is intoxicating.
For the first time in what feels like forever, being around a man isn’t scary. There’s nothing I want more than to be with Dex, right here, right now.
He lets out a soft groan as my hand makes contact with his inner thigh, and trails its way across to his cock, which already strains through his pants.
I won’t lie and say I hadn’t thought about what it would be like, and I’m not disappointed. Even through the material, I can tell he’s above average—nothing about this man is average, so no surprises there.
He groans again softly as I rub him through his pants.
His hands roam my body, pulling my shirt over my head, tugging at my jeans until we’re both naked, skin to skin.
His body is a work of art, all rippling muscle and inked skin, and when I glance down, my breath catches at the sight of him.
His massive cock glimmers in the light. “Holy shit,” I murmur, eyes widening as I take in the piercings. A Prince Albertanda Jacob’s ladder. “Well, that’s…” I can’t find the words.