“Okay…” he smiles, and I can tell he’s enjoying this.
“I’m sharing this because the clitoris has over ten thousand nerve glands in its pea sized shape. Most men, only focus on that portion of the female’s anatomy, when really, they should be focusing on theentirefemale sexual center. You can massage, caress and kiss all the areas I mentioned to bring a female to pleasure.”You can nip, bite, suck and mark those parts too, as you’re aware.
“During our nights spent together, had I only focused on one area of the female pleasure center?” He scoots closer, until his knee is bumping against mine.
There’s no doubt in my mind that he hadn’t. Cain marked me. Physically in places, and in other ways that can’t be labeled or identified. Mentally. Emotionally. Deep in places that don’t operate on logic or reason.
The more that I learn about human connection, sex, love, and the strange alchemy that happens between two people with undeniable chemistry, the more I’m convinced there are levels of intimacy that live outside the body altogether.
And Cain has touched every single one of those spots.
He hit every nerve, every inch, even the parts of me that don’t technically exist in the present.
And God help me; I want him to do it again.
“I can’t remember,” I whisper.
“Would you like me to remind you?” he asks. “For research, and practice, of course. It’d be good if I had a sex therapist walk me through things hands on. I know it’s not something you’d normally do, but I want to be sure I’m not making any mistakes. Leaving any opportunities forpleasureon the table.”
I’m sure this is a bad idea. I’m sure Leo would tell me that I’m leading him on when I know I can’t be what he needs. I know doing this with a client is unethical, especially while on the clock.
But none of those things stop me. I allow him to undress me anyway.
His hands move to the silk belt on my sweater dress, smooth and controlled. I watch as he undoes it. Then, to my shoulders, where he carefully presses the fabric down and pushes it past my arms, breasts and over my waist, guiding my hips to lift until I reveal the black, all lace bra that I’d put on when I thought I was still trying to be stylish for Rebel tonight.
A growl rattles through his chest as he takes me in before lowering his lips to my shoulder and planting a gentle kiss there.
It’s such a simple movement, but the action sends heat flooding through every inch of my skin and between my legs. Sometimes, the most simple, tender touches are more heated than the forceful ones.
“Did you wear this for him?” he asks.
It was never about impressing Rebel in a sexual way; it was always about the work. About the money. About what the opportunity could do for my family.
Every decision I’ve made for the past eight years has been governed by that same, fierce loyalty. Everything I’ve done is for them.
This, tonight, is for me.
“It wasn’t for him to see.”
His hands gently guide me to lay back on the couch.
“Good.”
His clothing is still on as he kneels between my legs, gazing up at my body.
“What about touching while underwear is still on?” he asks as his fingers brush against my covered pussy. The mere graze of his fingers sends a jolt of electricity through my already wired body as I squirm.
“Some women… may like that,” I whisper, my eyes never leaving his.
He smirks knowingly and then reaches up to the straps of my panties and pulls them off.
“So, the vulva…” his voice trails off as he looks between my legs with admiration, his face just a few inches away from my pussy now. “It likes to be massaged and caressed. Kissed and touched?” he asks. He cups my pussy with his large hands and rubs it.
“Yes…” I clear my throat, “that brings blood to the tissues and um… enlarges it.”
Damn. I love his hands.
He nods, still watching between my legs and then gently uses his fingers to part my lips.
