Bram’s fists are closed so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.
“And…”—he takes a breath to steady himself—“do you frequently engage in sex with multiple partners at once?”
“Eh. Pretty sure that night—fuck, what was that? Eight people?—was the most at once. But sure. If a threesome or foursome comes up, who am I to say no? I mean…Rick and Martha next door invite me over all the time. I’m probably not into whatever seventies hippie sex they’ve got going on, but if Rick wanted to exchange blowjobs, I suppose—”
“No,” Bram says, leaning forward to put his finger in my face. “You willnotparticipate in that kind of sexual activity ever again.”
Ignoring his rude gesture, I go for practiced cool. “There’s nothing wrong with a healthy sex life,Bram.”
“Do you think that’s a healthy sex life?”
“Bram, are you shaming my sexual expression?” I ask, arching my brow.
He catches the smirk I can’t hide and looks off to the side. “Stop it, Nacho.”
Two can play that game, I see.
“Tell you what,Bram. Why don’t you look me in the eyes and tell me to stop.”
Slowly, as if it pains him, he brings his eyes to mine. Fuck. That’s like lightning in the vein.
Putting his finger back in my face, he orders, “You are not to get sexual satisfaction from anywhere else.”
“But why?” I ask, shimmying my shoulders, coy in a way that’s making a big vein pop out on his head.
“You know why.”
“And what do you mean byanywhere else, Bram? Is there a sanctioned, Dr. Barlowe-approved place from which I can derive my pleasure?” I ask, not-so-innocently.
“You know there is.”
Oh. I wasn’t expecting him to actually say that.
“I do.” I put on a dramatic pout before continuing. “But I wanna hear you say it. Out loud.”
His frustrated exhale becomes more of a growl and…damn. I do like spinning him up.
“Ignacio…”
“Dr. Barlowe…” I say, parting my thighs as I give him my best come-fuck-me-against-this-loveseat look.
“You cannot sleep with other people when you are mine.”
Oh…shit. Sitting up, I lean forward.
“Wait.AmI yours? Genuine question because I don’t fucking know what I am to you.”
“How could you not know? I think the parking lot made it obvious.”
“Well, it didn’t because I have no idea what the fuck is in your head.” Pointing to my ear, I continue, “I’m gonna need to hear you say the words.”
I fix him with a glare, daring him to back out now. He doesn’t. Shifting in his chair, he tightens his fists, but at least he’s still looking me in the eye.
“You belong to me, Ignacio. All of your orgasms belong tome,” he says, his rumbly words vibrating my insides.
I smile, supremely satisfied. “Now, was that so fucking hard?”
14
