"You will be anyway," I say, my thumb stroking her pulse point, feeling the frantic, frantic beat of her heart against my fingers.
I pause, letting the words sink in.
I pull out of her completely, absorb the satisfaction of her whimper, and make my way up her body, a knee on either side of her until I’m straddling her chest.
"Have you sucked cock before, Erica?" I ask, my head cocked as I look down at her.
Her cheeks flush a deep crimson, but she doesn't break my gaze.
She gives a small, almost imperceptible shake of her head.
The raw, unfiltered honesty in her eyes, the vulnerability of her confession, hits me like a physical blow. My desire, already a raging inferno, ratchets up another notch.
Her innocence is a gift.
A precious, fragile thing that I am the first, and only, man to touch.
I can't wait to wreck it.
"I'm going to use your mouth," I say, my voice flat, a statement of fact. "We haven't talked about safe words yet, and we will, but I find the stoplight system works best for beginners."
I take her hands in mine. "Look at me," I order when I see her eyes following my cock.
She meets my gaze, her own wide and trusting.
"Green means go," I explain, my thumbs stroking the backs of her hands. "Yellow means slow down and check in. If you're uncomfortable or unsure, you say yellow, and I stop and check in with you. Yellow is two squeezes."
I squeeze her hands to show her. "Show me," I say.
She squeezes back. Twice. Her grip is firm, sure.
"Good. Just like that," I say, "Red means stop. Completely. Everything. No questions asked, no matter what. If you're tied up, I'll cut you loose. If I'm inside you, I’ll pull out. And— Look at me," I repeat when her eyes drift to our hands. "I will never, ever be angry at you for using it. You say red loud and clear when you need it, or squeeze my hand three times. Show me."
She squeezes my hands three times. Her entire focus is on me, her expression open, receptive.
"The only way you'll ever get in trouble with me is by not using it when you need to," I say, my voice serious. "Do you understand?"
She gives a small but decisive nod. "Yes, Sir."
"When we're talking about things like this, there is no Sir," I tell her. "We are equals, establishing boundaries and trust. So, I will ask you one more time. Do you understand?"
She meets my gaze without hesitation. "I understand. Nico."
I lean down to kiss her. "Good," I say, my voice a little rougher than I intended. "Now, what color are you, Erica?"
"Green," she whispers, without a second of hesitation, squirming a little under me in anticipation. "Definitely green."
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across my face. “That’s my good girl.”
Chapter Twenty Five
Erica
Nico still has my hands in his, and he kisses my knuckles on each hand before pinning them above my head with one of his. The unexpected move pulls a moan out of me.
The move is fluid, so smooth and practiced and effortless that it sends a jolt of pure desire straight to my core. He's strong. So much stronger than me. And the thought should scare me, but it doesn't.
It makes me feel safe.
