“Goodnight, Andrea.”
She gives me one last look before she walks to her room. Once again, she leaves the door slightly ajar, and I can’t tell if it’s an invitation or a test. I’m lost, unsure of what she wants from me. Does she even know?
With a frustrated sigh, I make my way to my room to pack my things and prepare for the night. In the shower, I consider taking care of myself like I’ve craved since I heard her play with herself, but I hold back. It can’t be healthy, but a part of me likes this. My pleasure belongs to her, and unless she expressly asks me to relieve myself like she did on the plane, I don’t deserve to come.
From the very beginning of my sex life, I’ve had a dominant nature. It stems from my need for control. I like taking charge, and I like being obeyed. It’s always been that way, even with Andrea. But I’ve discovered that I like leavingherin charge. I want to see what she’ll do, what she’ll take and give, like when she tied me up to her bed that time. People who enjoy being submissive aren’t such a mystery to me anymore. There’s something thrilling about surrendering yourself to someone else’s will.
Though I do wish I hadn’t fallen for such a fucking tease.
Sitting in bed with my back against the headboard, I consider rubbing one out again. It’s getting in the way of my focus, and this trip might not be the best moment to test how much I’m willing to endure. Andrea certainly doesn’t bother holding back. She even brought a sex toy with her, for fuck’s sake.
Alright, I’ll finish catching up on my emails and then give myself a quick but necessary release.
Two shy knocks distract me from my phone, and my attention narrows on the door. The handle twists without my invitation, and the cause of my torment walks in. She’s wearing the same shirt as earlier, and it takes me back to the moment I found her in her bed, panting, satiated, and slightly flushed all over. Fuck, I can’t wait to have her looking like this under me as I ravage her with deep and powerful thrusts.
“Is everything alright?” I ask with a frown.
She nods and walks up to my bed, barefoot. I follow her every move, and when she lifts the covers to slip underneath them, I tense. “What are you doing?”
“My bed feels empty,” she says, as if it justifieseverything.
“You want to sleep here?”
She nods. “Would you prefer I didn’t?”
Of course, I wouldn’t. If it were my choice, she’d sleep in my bed for the rest of our lives.
I remove my glasses, fold them, and put them on the nightstand along with my phone. Once the light is off, I lower on the bed until I’m under the covers with her. No matter how much my hands tingle from the need to touch her, I don’t.
But the moment she slips closer to me, with a slim hand grazing my chest, I give in to the urge and reach out to pull her in. She plasters herself against me, and her hand slithers lower, all the way to the boxer briefs at my hip. As if this isn’t enough yet, she lifts her leg and drapes it over me, her knee dangerously close to my awakening cock. I grab her thigh to prevent it from going any higher.
The moment stretches as she draws random swirls on my chest with her fingertips. “Lex?” she whispers after several minutes of this.
“Hm?”
“Can you promise you’ll never break my heart again?”
Although it’s too dark to see the details of her face, I look down. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I promise I’ll do everything in my power not to.”
I guess she appreciates the answer because she lays a tender kiss on my chest. Then, she grabs my hand at her thigh and twists around, pulling me with her until we’re spooning.
“We should sleep,” she decides. As if on cue, she yawns.
There’s no way she can’t feel my erection nested right against her ass. So, when she purposefully wriggles closer to it, I let out a groan and grab her hip in warning.
“Andrea, what are you doing?”
“Trying to find a comfortable position.”
“I mean, what is…this? Do you want me to cave and fuck you, or are you testing me to see if I’ll respect the rules you set?”
She doesn’t answer, but I feel the way she tenses against me.
“I’ll do either,” I continue. “But I’m not good with mixed signals. I need to know which one you want from me, Andrea. I don’t want you to feel unwanted because I’m not answering your invitations—trust me, every cell in my body wanted to join you in your bed earlier and fuck you instead of that toy. But I also don’t want you to think you can’t trust me to respect your boundaries.”
She’s still holding my hand, keeping my arm around her, and she tugs so my hold is even tighter. “My conscience wants to test you, tohurt you a little for what happened,” she explains after a minute of pondering. “But my heart wants you, mindless of the past, unconcerned by the future.”
So, there is no wrong answer. Either way, she’s getting something she wants. “And which one should I respect above the other?” I ask.
