Tears blurring my vision, I gazed at him while he settled down onto me with one hand on either side of my body. I didn’t want to do this. So desperately, I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to give him this…!
“Toby,” he said, edge of warning in his voice.
“Please don’t rush me,” I whispered, and my own words sounded lost, pathetic, barely more than a whimper.
Whatever he saw in my eyes made him pause, and he nodded slightly to me.
I took a deep breath, trying to work myself up to it. I didn’t know if I could really do it. This was a guy, one bigger than me, with stubble instead of smoothness. I couldn’t pretend he was her. I couldn’t even come close. And if Ikissed him in a way he thought I meant, he was going to get confused — more confused.
I wished he could see that this was futile, that this wasn’t going to happen no matter how much he wanted it. But he wouldn’t give up until I surrendered yet again.
Something inside of me broke as I leaned up. His hand moved to the back of my head, cupping it, but he let me set the speed.
I drew in another breath then leaned in, my lips finding his in a kiss.
This was nothing like what it was when I was kissing my girlfriend, and I was all too aware of it. But I kissed him like I meant it — right up until the point he moaned and I could feel his erection against my thigh.
He didn’t let me draw back immediately, though, fisting his hand in my hair and holding me in place. His tongue darted out, tasting me, then pressed insistently at my mouth until I parted my lips.
He explored my mouth, taking the reins of the kiss, and I let it happen.
So help me, I kissed him back.
8
GRIFFIN
He kissed me like he meant it.
It was what I’d wanted, but I hadn’t thought he’d really do it.
I’d been surprised when his lips had first met mine, and when they parted for me, I couldn’t help but groan against his mouth.
I could tell he wanted to pull away, but he yielded anyway, which gave me the slightest bit of hope. Maybe he could learn to want it.
Maybe he could learn to want me, too.
I had to believe it was possible — and more, that it would happen.
I ran my hand along his cheek, deepening the kiss, and he made a little noise.
I didn’t want to get my hopes up and think it was a moan, but I knew I was a damn good kisser. Surely some things transcended gender, didn’t they?
Reluctantly, I drew back, stroking his cheek, and I watched him. His eyes were closed, and his expression was a little pained. It sent a pang through me in turn. I didn’t wanthim to feel that way. I wanted him to enjoy what I had to offer, and that was so much.
For now, though, there were other lessons I could teach him.
I’d done research on how to turn him into my kitten, and the main thing working to my advantage was that he claimed to want it. I’d have to break him down to turn him into my pup, but if he cooperated, I could have a pet like I wanted — maybe even the pet I wanted by day and something more at night.
I could have everything I wanted if he only surrendered to me in full.
I gazed down at him. His eyes opened as I adjusted the cat ears on the top of his head and smoothed back waves of his hair.
“You’re beautiful,” I told him, my voice reverent.
He offered a weak smile, and I appreciated the effort. He may not have wanted to be there — in my bed, beneath me, his lips kissed until they were swollen — but he was at least trying.
That had to be a start.
