"Round three?" I tease, but my pulse is already quickening.
"Eventually." He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me between his knees. "But first, I want to talk."
"Talk?"
"Yes. Like normal people do."
"Based on the last two days, I don’t think we’re normal people."
"Fair point." His hands slide up my sides. "I want to know more about you. Real things. Not just what a background check tells me."
My stomach flips. "You mean there are things you don't already know?"
"I know the facts. Your parents died when you were nineteen. Car accident. You were a sophomore at UBC. No siblings. Forty-seven thousand in student loans." His thumb traces circles on my hip. "But I don't know how you felt. What it was like. Who you became after."
"You really want to know?"
"Yes."
I'm quiet for a moment. Then: "It was hard. Losing them both at once. I almost dropped out of school. But I didn't because... because they would have wanted me to finish. And I realized I wanted to help other people who were going through loss. That's why I switched to social work. Why I want to be a therapist."
"You're going to be good at it," he says quietly. “I've watched you be kind to people who don't deserve it. Patient with people who are rude. You care about others, even when it costs you." He pulls me down onto his lap. "The background check told me your history. But watching you told me who you are."
I smile and straddle his thighs. The moment is warm, cozy, and almost romantic.
He cups my face. "I want you. And I'm going to do everything in my power to make you want to stay."
"I already want to stay," I admit.
His eyes go dark. "Say that again."
"I want to stay. I know it's crazy. I know we barely know each other. But being here with you, with your family..." I swallowhard. "I haven't felt this wanted in years." I kiss him. The kiss is softer than last night, more exploratory.
His hands slide under my sweater, warm against my skin.
"I want to try something," I whisper against his mouth.
"Anything."
I push him back on the bed and start unbuttoning his pants. His hands still on my hips, watching me with dark, hungry eyes.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking control. You've been in charge since you kidnapped me. It's my turn now."
A slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face. "Is that so?"
"Yes." I pull his pants and boxer briefs down, freeing his cock. It's thick and hard, already leaking precum. "And you're going to let me."
"Am I?"
We both know he could overpower me in a second, but he humors me.
"Yes. You're going to lie there and let me ride your cock. Let me set the pace. Let me take what I want." I start stripping off my own clothes, watching his eyes widen as I reveal myself to him. "And you're going to love every second of it."
"Fuck," he breathes. "You're perfect."
I climb back on top of him, straddling his hips. His cock is trapped between us, hot and hard against my stomach.
