But Nate stops me.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
My cheeks burn. “Um, making sure I enjoy things?” It comes out as a question. I doubt he would be the kind of man to tell menotto have an orgasm, but I also know that it takes time for me to get there unless it’s by my own hand.
Rob and I had an agreement. He could never get me to come, so he gave me time to take care of it myself.
And as I blink up at Nate, I wonder if that’s normal.
“That’s my job,” he says.
I wince. “Um, it takes a while. Like ... way too long.”
“And you think I won’t wait that long? What kind of idiot wouldn’t?”
“Uh, well.” My cheeks grow impossibly hotter as he rolls his eyes.
“Just let me try.”
For a second, I wonder if he’ll get frustrated, but this is Nate.MyNate. He’s never given up on me before.
At my nod, he pulls my bottoms off before he kisses me again. His hand drifts downward.
“Tell me if I need to do anything different,” he murmurs against my lips. “I can take a little direction.”
I can’t imagine correcting him at all, but if there is anyone I’d try to, it would be him. So when he presses the pad of his finger to my clit for the first time, I speak. “Go around it. I can be a little sensitive.”
“Got it.” And he follows my instructions.
I move differently, and my body knows it at first. It’s a mix of this being our first time and Nate being at a different angle. It feels good, and I can’t deny that I enjoy it, but I don’t feel things building like I should be.
“It’s . . . you can?—”
“Maisie.” His voice is soft. “There’s no rush here. What do you need from me?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. I expect him to sigh and tell me to handle it myself.
“That’s okay. I could try something, though. If you trust me, that is.”
“Of course I trust you.” I say it immediately. “I just don’t know if it’ll work.”
“Then tell me if it feels good. Don’t worry about the end goal.”
“But the end is what matters, isn’t it?”
“No, berry. Not with me.” He presses a kiss to my warm cheek.
He then changes his angle, using two fingers to go aroundthe most sensitive part of me. I’d never thought of trying anything like that, but it does feel better. So much so I move my hips to it.
“Yes,” I say. “That’s good.”
My fingers curl into his shoulders as he continues. I want my orgasm to come quickly, but I remember his words. Itdoesfeel good and I enjoy it. I just wish it was easier.
“Do you remember that time that you didn’t want to wait for the pizza to finish and you ate it half-cooked?” I say breathlessly. “If it begins to feel like that, then stop.”
“Are you calling me impatient, berry?”
“If the shoe fits . . .”
