My disappointing sexual experiences so far had a lot to do with my consideration of his proposal. The few boyfriends I’d had couldn’t have satisfied me if I’d drawn out a treasure map of my vagina with an X-marks-the-spot for my clitoris. Even when the sex had been decent, I’d always craved something more. A man who would take charge. Who knew instinctively what my body craved and gave it to me ruthlessly without me having to ask. I loved the idea of being manhandled a bit. Taken over. The idea alone made me wet.
My whole life was well ordered, from my daily jogs to my job that was actually an exact science, with rules and standardized processes to follow. No wonder I wanted a dirty, risqué adventure in the bedroom. My body battled with my brain. I shouldn’t want what Braydon was offering. Then again, I was missing both the emotional connection of a serious boyfriend and a satisfying sexual relationship in my life. I knew with Braydon I’d be 50 percent of the way there. Not bad odds.
“What other questions do you have in that head of yours, kitten?” He stroked the furrowed spot between my eyebrows with his thumb.
I shook my head. “I don’t know.” I’d never had a pleasure pal, so I was totally at a loss about what to ask next. “Wait.” I sat up straighter. “Will you be, like, dating other girls during this arrangement?”
“Hmm. Good question.” He set my hand down in my lap. “What do you think?”
I chewed on my lip. He was asking me? “I don’t know. I mean, I’m not dating anyone else right now, but . . .”
He shook his head, his eyes locking on mine. “Once I’ve been inside of you, you’re mine. No one else gets to touch you. Do you understand?” That was ridiculous. We weren’t dating and he wanted to lay claim to me like some dominant alpha male? I was a confident, successful woman. I didn’t play games. So why was my head nodding in agreement to his absurd proposition?
A slow, easy smile spread across his mouth. “That’s a good girl, kitten. I promise I’ll take care of you.” He pushed my hair back from my face and watched my eyes. He reached for my cell phone and programmed his number in, then called his phone. Smooth.
“If I can’t have anyone else inside me, as you so eloquently put it, then neither can you.”
His eyes danced on mine. “No problem. If anyone tried to put something inside me, I’d break their f**king jaw.”
“Braydon!” I slapped his shoulder playfully. “I mean you’ve got to keep it in your pants, mister. No other girls.”
His mouth twitched in a smile. “I have quite a sexual appetite, lovely. Are you sure you can handle me?”
I bit my lip and nodded, heat crawling up my chest.
“I don’t want to create an imposition for you.” His hand circled my hip, his large fingers reaching all the way to my spine.
My ni**les instantly hardened as my body responded to his nearness and his scent. A mixture of spicy cologne and clean soap. I wasn’t sure what would happen next, but Braydon, ever the gentleman, rose from the couch. “You’re tired. I should probably go.”
“Oh.” I stood too quickly and suddenly felt light-headed again. His hand on my elbow steadied me.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
His features softened as he gazed down at me. “I can read the indecision all over you. Your body wants this. Your brain isn’t sure.” He already understood me so well, it was impossible to argue. He leaned closer, his lips brushing my neck. “And when I f**k you for the first time, I want you to be certain. I want there to be no questions in your mind. I want you begging me to penetrate you. I want your hand guiding me inside you.” He pulled back to measure my reaction.
My knees trembled as I reached out to grip his bicep for support. Bad idea. The warm, solid muscle under my hand made me question everything. Should I invite him to stay? See where things went? I chewed on my bottom lip, the words on the tip of my tongue. But he was right . . . I was hesitating, not quite brave enough to take what I wanted. Stupid brain.
His mouth captured mine in a hungry kiss, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip, and when my mouth parted, his tongue stroked mine hypnotically.
Pushing his hips toward mine, he succeeded in aligning our bodies from chest to thigh. I could feel the way his tense erection strained against his jeans, and, all too aware that he’d touched me but I hadn’t yet touched him, I reached out to rub the front of his pants. I wanted to feel him and his manhood. His hand caught my wrist and lifted it away from the front of his jeans. Pressing a kiss against my wrist, he shook his head. “Greedy little girl.”
I swallowed roughly, needing to make light of my wanton behavior. “There’s nothing worse than popping the hood and finding inadequate equipment underneath.” I dared a peek down at his crotch, unable to hide my smirk.
“I think you’ll be more than satisfied with my equipment, miss.”
“Then let me see.” I rubbed against him again, loving the steely feel of his warm length encased in denim.
He shook his head. “You will. But not tonight. How about I just taste you instead? I want to lick your pu**y again,” he whispered.
My fingers reflexively tightened around his arm. How could I say no to that? My head gave a little nod and he quickly led me to my bedroom.
When we reached the darkened room, his fingers laced between mine again, the move possessive and intimate. I liked it way too much. We kissed for several minutes, standing in the center of my bedroom until I felt Braydon’s fingers find the button on my jeans. I wouldn’t stop him now. Couldn’t. My body wanted this.
Pushing my jeans and panties down from my hips, Braydon suddenly lifted me, tossing me onto my mattress. His strength was unexpected, and I let out a small squeak when I hit the bed.
Grinning his impish little grin, that sexy dimple taunting me so adorably, he leaned down and kissed my navel. “This okay, baby?” his breath whispered across my belly.
I nodded, unable to speak. I watched him through lowered lashes. He really was perfect. I could stare at him for hours.
He removed my shirt, sitting back on his heels to admire me briefly. Then he kissed the top of my pubic bone, taking his time to worship me properly by laying tender kisses all along the top of my sex. In my memories from the wedding, he had proven he was beyond talented at this. I squirmed against the bed, wanting his mouth lower. Wanting to feel his tongue slide against me, but unsure of how to ask for what I needed. Braydon didn’t make me ask. He continued his descent, pushing my thighs apart and out of the way as he lowered his mouth to taste me. I drew in a sharp inhale when his tongue made contact, lazily circling my clit.