Once we’re inside, he goes about taking off his suit jacket, laying it over the dining room chair. The country club only has a couple dozen rooms, but the one he’s staying in is on the nicer side with a full kitchen and living room.
“Have you been here for long?” I ask, noticing that the place is bare of any personal belongings.
“A couple of weeks,” he says, stalking toward me.
“Why are you?—”
“Enough talking.”
He takes my face in his hands and crashes his mouth down on mine. His tongue slides between my parted lips, and he tastes like whiskey and determination.
His hands glide down my ass cheeks, and he hoists me into his arms, carrying me into the room, where he drops me onto the center of the bed.
“Take off your clothes,” he demands.
And every hope I had about this man is shattered. He wants to dominate in the bedroom, which is what most women would want. A man who is determined to make her come. And it’s what I should want, but it’s not what Ineed.
I do as he said because we’re already here, so I might as well try. But I already know I won’t be coming once, let alone twice, tonight.
Once my clothes are off, he spreads my legs and dives right in with gusto. He has no problem finding my clit, but I’ve already lost the desire for an orgasm.
He licks and sucks, and I get lost in my head, wondering if this is how it’s always going to be. I always blame the men, but the truth is, I’m the one with the issues.
After a few minutes—or maybe longer—I notice the licking has stopped, and when I glance down, I find Kane staring up at me.
Was I lost in my head so long that I was already supposed to fake my orgasm?
Well, shit!
“That was so good,” I lie, sitting up. “Your turn?”
“What the fuck did you just say?” He leans back and glares at me.
“I said it was good …”
“What was good? You didn’t make a fucking sound, and when I stopped touching you for over a minute, you didn’t even notice.”
Oops.
“Sorry, but, um, it was good.”
I reach for his belt buckle, but he moves out of my grasp and stands.
“What is this? Some kind of game you play? You were bitching about not orgasming, yet you checked out before even giving me a chance.”
I stare at him for several seconds. I faked my orgasms with Theo every single time, but he never once noticed.
“I’m not playing any games,” I tell him, sliding off the bed and grabbing my clothes from the floor. “It’s not my fault the male species is so busy banging their fists against their chest that they don’t take the time to listen to what a woman needs.”
Before I can get my dress on, he snatches it from my hands and grabs my chin between his fingers, forcing me to look at him.
“Tell me what you need.”
I take a step back, trying to figure out how to answer his question. I told Theo so many times what I wanted, but is that the same as what I need?
My thoughts go back to earlier tonight with Theo. Where everything once again started to go wrong. He was in control of our pleasure while I had none.
I tried to tell him what I wanted—please, harder!—but he wouldn’t listen.
