As for me… I certainly have particular tastes, and all of them center around the pleasure of my partner.
“That’s not going to be a problem with us,” I tell her.
“You’re right, because we won’t be having sex. I’m not interested in it.”
I pick up one of her hands, turning it over in mine and uncurling her fists. She has tiny hands, fitting for her tiny self, but they’re elegant—smooth palms, long fingers. Lots of old scratches and bite marks marring the skin, though.
“I think you will be interested in my brand of sex,” I tell her. “Because it will be about you. In fact, my enjoyment hinges on the reactions of other people at the worst of times—with you, that’d be magnified tenfold. A hundredfold, maybe.”
She watches me examine her hand, looking confused. “Why?”
I smile faintly. I’m starting to like her way of asking that question with an almost innocent curiosity and tone of befuddlement. I decide to lay it all out for her, tell her my desires, and see how she takes it.
“I like to control everything that happens in the bedroom,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “Typical.”
Sensing her interest wane, I press on. “Not in a typical way. Some guys like a sadistic approach, other’s tastes differ from person to person and scene to scene.”Exhibit A: Connor and Seamus. “I have a pretty consistent baseline; I like to control a girl’s pleasure. Decide when she gets an orgasm, how she gets it, how many times she gets it. That’s the most interesting and enjoyable part forme, watching another person’s body mold under my touch. Making it bend to my will.” Her eyes widen as she meets my gaze, but they’re no longer wide with fear or discomfort, they’re wide with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. “I’d say I’m a bit sadistic when it comes to sex,especiallypunishment, but my trade isn’t pain. It’s pleasure.” A faint smile tugs at my lips. “So many men are terribly unoriginal. Disappointingly so. A punishment is easy when you redden someone’s ass, but pain tolerances build. That gets old. Forced orgasms? Not so much, that’s an entirely different form oftorture.”
Mira’s breath hitches again, and interest brightens her eyes, mixing with a good dose of apprehension. Her pupils dilate from a blend of arousal andfear. My cock stiffens, pressing against the zipper of my jeans until it’s outright uncomfortable and aching for relief. I amveryinterested in tying Mira up and seeing how long it takes her to beg for reprieve, to cry her way through as many orgasms as I want to give her. I want to edge her until she can’t take it, then force her to come until she sobs.
“You like the idea,” I state.
Her blush deepens. She shakes her head again, but it’s a lie. Shedoeslike the idea; she’s also daunted by it.
“We can talk more about it later,” I say after a beat, releasing her hand. It falls limply to her lap. “When you’re interested in a demonstration, let me know, but try not to wait too long.” I lean forward, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “The longer I wait, the harder I’ll go on you, thehungrierI’ll be.” I lean back. “For now, let’s go to bed. When do you have classes in the morning?”
She swallows. “Nine a.m.”
I nod. “Good, I have my first class around then, too. What classes do you have tomorrow?”
She rattles off a list of advanced credits in a breathy voice.
“So your last one is at 5 p.m.,” I say with a nod. “Busy bee with a full day. You an overachiever?"
She shrugs. “I just like getting things done. I like advancing myself in life, and school’s an excellent steppingstone. The more I do, the closer I get to my goal, and the better I feel. Besides, staying busy helps me ignore other people.”
I incline my head. “Word to the wise, don’t ignore me. Ever. If I get too hungry for your attention, I might turn feral, and I don’t know if you can handle a feral version of me.”
“Why do you like me?” she asks suddenly. “I don’t get it. I’m as weird as it gets, and I’m not especially receptive to you. What’s the draw?”
I consider that for a moment. “I’ve never met anyone like you, woman or man. You’re fascinating; a package that’s shiny, pretty, unique as it gets, and alarmingly intelligent. Brave, too, and quirky. It’s a package that appeals to me.”
She contemplates that. “Okay. Can I have my own room tonight?”
I smile. “No.”
Her brows touch. “Why? You make me uncomfortable. I want to sleep.”
“I’m going to keep you close so I can keep an eye on you,” I explain.
She gazes at me, eyes glazing. I’m starting to learn that’s an indicator of her doing whatever it is that gives her such an amazing ability to seethroughpeople and to their true intentions. I wasn’t joking when I said she’s remarkable, and my urges to unravel every bit of her and make hermineare only getting stronger.
“That’s not the only reason why,” she says decisively. “There’s something else.” Her cheeks flush again, and she looks away, turning her full attention to the wall.
“You’re right,” I agree softly, inching forward on the couch. She inches back, so I inch forward more. We play the advance-and-retreat game until she’s pressed up against the arm, and I’m hovering over her, with barely any space separating our bodies. My gaze travels over her half-frightened, half-captivated expression, then settles on her parted lips.How would they taste?Delicious, I’m sure. “What’s the other reason?” I ask her.
“I don’t know,” she says too quickly.
