My entire body trembles, my mouth swollen, my pulse thundering like I’ve been kissed down to the bone.
“I felt it.”
“Good.”His seductive bedroom eyes make my knees give out all over again.“Remove your clothes.”
I’ve imagined this moment in a hundred filthy, half-formed ways over the years, never believing it would actually happen.Never believing I would be standing in front of a woman, let alone the hottest Disney princess that ever existed, waiting for her to strip for me.
God’s balls on a gold chain, I’m fucking feral for Dove Rath.Like I’m shaking, panting, so fucking turned on I’m making a dick-dribbling mess in my underwear.
I hope she’s leaking, too.I want her honey all over my face.
My heart slams, and every nerve in my body fires at once.I’ve only ever seen one woman naked, and those moments in the cabin with Frankie are bound in pain.Nothing my mind can twist into pleasure.Nothing that taught me a single damn thing about how this is supposed to feel.
Everything I know about sex, the mechanics, the rhythm, the way bodies fit and react, I learned from porn.Allthe porn.Every category, kink, and gender combination.Not because I needed it.Hell, I can get off with my imagination alone.But I wanted to understand the rules.The steps.How to make someone feel good.How to take someone apart slowly.How to read a body in all its aroused glory.
Not gonna lie.My extensive research has made me cocky as hell.
I’m a fast learner.Especially when the thing I want to learn is standing right here.
Her eyes lift to mine, pupils blown, and lips swollen.Her breathing comes quick and fractured, like she’s trying not to melt into the floor.She’s not stepping back.
She wants this.
She wants me.
I’ve held her hand, kissed her lips, brushed my mouth along her throat, and seen her pierced tits.
But not this.
This is a locked door in my scarred chest swinging wide open.
This is the monumental, long-overdue surrender of my virginity.
My body throbs so hard I can barely catch a breath.I’m harder than I’ve ever been, my need so rabid it blurs the edges of my vision.
She floats closer, her throat bobbing and her hands hovering near my stomach.Her lashes lower and lift, and her breathing tumbles into a soft shiver as her gaze rests on my mouth.
That look alone nearly makes me come.
Then she speaks.“We need to talk about the things that trigger you.The types of touches.Pressure of fingers.Memories tied to certain positions.Your off-limit zones and—”
“Remember when we met, and you refused to talk?I think you said five words in one week.”I widen my eyes.“Look at you now.Giving TED Talks instead of getting naked.”
“Shut up.”
“You shut up.”
“I’m being serious.”She folds her arms.“I need to know what shuts you down, speeds up your breathing, makes you freeze and feel cornered, makes you feel safe…”
“Are you done?”
“I won’t touch you until I know how to touch you right.”
“Listen up, Little Menace.Youwilltouch me.”I grip her jaw, thumb dragging across her lower lip, forcing her mouth open, wide enough for her to know what I intend to put in it.“But first, I’m touching you.Take.Off.Your.Clothes.”
I step back and make an impatient gesture.
A tiny sound escapes her, something between a sigh and a plea.Then her hands go to the hem of her shirt.
