I freeze mid-step, releasing her nipple, staring at her. Confusion is written all over my face.
“But, you were pissed at me.”
The look she gives me would undo a lesser man. Pity, amusement, a challenge in her eyes.
Tori pouts, taps my cheek twice like I’m a misbehaving child, and says:
“It’s so cute that you think I got these for you. These were a Christmas present to myself, sweetie.”
Naturally, I spank her ass. Sharp. Quick. And then I bite her other nipple, tugging at the piercing with my teeth until she cries out.
“More,” she moans, hands gripping my hair, yanking me closer.
By the time I reach the bedroom, she’s half undressed, wrapped around me, kissing me like she never intends to stop.
But I don’t drop her onto the bed. Not tonight.
Tonight isn’t about being careless or reckless. Tonight isn’t about games. Tonight is about reverence. Worship.
About showing her, without a single shadow of doubt, that I love her. That I amin lovewith her. That whatever came before, whatever hurt or brokenness we dragged behind us, the old has gone and the new has come.
I lower her onto the bed slowly, gently, my body still pressed hard against hers. My hands brace on either side of her head, our mouths working furiously, until I finally pull back just enough to see her.
Her jeans. Her boots. They have to go.
I kneel, tugging off one boot, then the other, setting them aside. She watches me with heavy eyes, panting, gaze burning hot enough to sear.
“These jeans look painted on, Tote,” I murmur, smirking up at her. “When I unzip them, will they obey, or will your ass fight me for them?”
She laughs, breathless. “They stretch. So they should behave.”
“Should,” I tease, leaning in to pop the button. I drag thezipper down slowly, deliberately, and the sight that greets me nearly buckles my knees. Matching black lace panties, sheer like the bra, taunting me.
The jeans slide off easily, thank God, and now she’s laid out before me in lace and nothing else.
“You’re staring,” she says, softly.
“I’m aware.”
I don’t stop staring, but I do peel my own clothes away—shirt, jeans, boxers—until I’m stripped bare.
My cock heavy in my hand, I stroke once, slowly, letting her see exactly what she does to me.
“We didn’t have this conversation beforehand,” I say, voice low, steady, “but I need to know right now if I’m allowed to take you bare.”
Her eyes go wide. “I’m not on birth control.”
“That wasn’t the question, Victoria.”
Her gaze flicks from my cock to my face, back again. “No. Not bare. I trust you, but I’m not ready for that.”
I nod. Relief washes through me. She doesn’t feel like she has to give me something she isn’t ready for. She knows she can say no.
“Good girl.”
Her thighs twitch and then clench at the words, and I file that away for later.Praise kink, activated.
“Now,” I murmur, tracing my fingertips from her ankle, up her calf, to her knee. I push her leg wide, anchor my knee against hers so she can’t close it.
