Just as swiftly as the energy is electrified, it fizzles as Corey’s expression falls. He steps back slightly, running a hand over his face, then through his hair. We both speak at once.
“Sorry, that was—”
“No—”
“Out of line—”
“Corey—”
“Shouldn’t have—”
“Corey!”I say loudly, but without quite shouting. It gets his attention, and he pauses, concern etched on his face. “Please, don’t apologize.” I take a deep breath and slip my tiny crossbody purse off my shoulder, tossing it onto a nearby couch.
Corey tilts his head, tracking the movement of the purse as it lands on the couch, then back to me. Concern is slowly being replaced by curiosity in his eyes, and I sense he’s waiting for me to continue.
“I might not have expected… that, precisely. But Corey… I liked that,” I say, licking my lips as nervous anticipation tingles through me.
“I want you to tell me what you were thinking when you hesitated,” he says softly. Despite how close we were to staggering over a precipice of lust, he puts me at ease so gently. “I… have dominant tendencies. It’s part of who I am,” he explains. “But it’s important to me that you’re okay with that, and that you’re comfortable.”
“I appreciate that so much,” I say, the anxious tremble disappearing from my voice. “I do want this. What gave me pause was…” I trail off, thinking of a few things, but most blatant among them being my lack of preparation.
This is the way my brain works, because the moment he was pressed against me and I felt the heat of his body, the press of his erection… my mind immediately went to the fact that I hadn’t shaved. My legs, sure, but elsewhere… not that I leave myself unkempt, by any means, but my brain goes in wild directions when it’s tainted with nerves and anxiety and, well, I panicked.
Corey reaches out and touches my shoulder, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles against my skin. “It’s okay, you can tell me, Bex,” he says.
“I wasn’t prepared,” I say quietly.
“Mmmm,” he says, nodding his head. “Then we don’t haveto—”
“I don’t mind,” I say quickly. I do not want him to change his mind, not after he’s launched my body into this level of heat and desire. “If you don’t.”
His brows furrow in confusion. “But—”
“Jesus, Corey, I didn’t shave. There. I just… wasn’t sure if that would bother you,” I say with a slight huff, fully aware that I must sound desperate or crazy or both.
Corey pauses for a moment before the sexiest grin spreads across his face. “Oh, Bex,” he says, pressing closer against me like we were before. He tilts his head down, pressing his forehead against mine in a move so intimate it steals my breath away. “Any way I can have you, I want you. That kind of stuff is… trivial to me.”
“That’s why I hesitated,” I say. His breath is hot against my face, and the heat of it travels to every inch of me. I’m practically vibrating with need in his arms.
Forehead still pressed to mine, Corey moves his hands from my shoulders, down my arms, to my waist. “Thank you,” he says softly. His hands—goddamn those strong, warm hands, making me feel so safe in this moment—continue moving down, over my hips, cupping my ass and squeezing. “For being honest with me.” He moves one hand to the bare skin of my thigh and I gasp as he moves from the back of my body to the front.
Corey licks his lips, his face so close to mine still. “Bex, may I touch you?”
“Yes, please.” Somehow, I manage to whisper out the words as my entire body clenches with anticipation.
He slips his hand between my thighs, caressing the soft skin there before moving up, so slowly. Tooslowly.
“Corey, please.” I am practically begging at this point, with zero shame. This man has me worked up in a way I have never felt in my life.
Corey chuckles and moves his hand up, brushing against the soft material of my panties. This slight touch has us both moaning, and it’s not enough.
“Fuck, Bex, you’re so wet for me,” he says, his eyelids fluttering as he strokes the damp fabric.
“All night. You’ve had me like this all night,” I say, breathlessly echoing his earlier words back to him.
Corey slips his fingers beneath the fabric and grazes softly against my clit, and we both groan again. He drops his head to the crook of my neck as he slides his fingers against me, feeling an almost embarrassing amount of wetness and slickness.
What, exactly, had I been worrying about? Corey is tonguing my neck, one hand still cupping my ass and the other sliding between the wet warmth of my cunt, stopping occasionally to rub soft circles against my clit. He murmurs my name against my skin, and I swear, in this moment, I have never felt more desired.
