Sucking on my lower lip, I pause. “It starts fine, but then ends in frustration.” I can’t believe I’m telling him this.
I also can’t believe he asks questions the way he does. The Viking is not looking for ego strokes on his technique. Whenever Bray asked whether I’d come, he wanted an immediate “yes.” If I even hinted I hadn’t had an orgasm, which for the record I never did, he sulked.
The Viking’s expression is focused, as though this is the one subject in the world that interests him. His silence encourages me to keep going.
“And rough is great, but I don’t like when itjusthurts.”
“Who was that with?”
Shaking my head, I look away. His breath is hot on my neck, like mid-summer ocean wind.
“You’ll tell me eventually, Arya.” Now his voice sounds gentle. “And when you do, you’ll feel better.”
My gaze cuts back to his face. “Talking doesn’t make it feel better.”
“Talking to me will.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
It’s not an answer, but something deep inside me sort of understands.
“What scares you? Anything in particular?” he asks.
“I’m scared of how stupid I was to offer you a blow job when you were angry. Pretty sure you would have choked me to death with that snake.”
He exhales an amused sound. “Wanna try to suffocate me?”
My brows rise. “How?”
“Cover my mouth and nose.”
It takes a second for his meaning to register. “No,” I say, laughing softly.
“Arya?”
“What?”
“You should take me up on my offer. In bed, I’m indestructible.”
That makes me laugh harder, and I shake my head.
“Spread your legs,” he says, slapping the top of my pussy with his fingers. The snapping sound causes my eyes to widen.
“So you can go down on me?” I shake my head. “That’s not fun for me.”
“No?” he says skeptically.
“I can’t come that way, and it’ll just get tense. It’s better if—”
“Spread your fucking legs.” His tone is hard and annoyed.
I suck my lower lip between my teeth and ease my knees farther apart. “Don’t blame me if it doesn’t go well. I tried to warn you.”
“Not sure what kind of lazy dickheads you’ve had going down on you in the past, but after I make you come with my tongue, you can write them a strongly worded email that begins with the words, Dear Whiny Simp, fuck you.”
A little burst of laughter rises from my chest and escapes. And then he lowers his mouth, and instantly shows me the difference between a man and a whiny simp.
