I walk up behind her and gather her hair in the three sections, careful not to snag any remaining tangles. She watches raptly in the mirror. I begin to weave the sections into a braid until I reach the ends.
“Rubber band?” I ask, palm out.
She takes one off the counter and hands it to me. “You know how to braid.” Her breathy words go straight to my cock.
“I do. I’m also good with knots … and rope.”
Her chest swells on a jerky inhale. I ease my fingers beneath the hem of her top and slide it upward until the curves of her heavy breasts peek beneath the fabric. We both watch the scene unfold in the mirror as though looking in on someone else. Her sultry reaction has me just as hard as the sight of her luscious body.
I allow the shirt to rest where it is and trail my hands seductively along the underside of her breasts toward the inside and back out. Rina lets out a moan and leans backward into me.
“The things you do to me should be illegal,” I rumble in her ear while pulling her ass snug against my throbbing erection.
“D.” Her breathy plea undoes me. I want to pledge my life to worshipping her body.
I return to her camisole, lifting it enough to fully expose her perfect, round tits. God, I need them in my mouth to lick and suck and flick with my tongue. Her pink nipples are already pebbled tight and begging for my touch. I’m just as eager, but force myself to tease a path all the way around, then back before finally twisting those greedy peaks.
Terina cries out, arching her chest hungrily.
I wrap one arm around to knead the far breast and use the other hand to hold her middle snug against me. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted to pierce them,” I rasp close to her ear. “Would you do that for me?” I hold her wanton stare in the mirror. She doesn’t keep me waiting. She nods readily.
“Give me words, firefly.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, D. I’ll get my nipples pierced for you.”
“Fuuuck.” I grind against her again, this time bringing my hand to the waist of her pajama pants.
Terina’s hand clamps over mine for the second time today. “Wait. Um…” Her gaze drops. “I, uh, I’ve started my period.”
Ah, so that’s the problem.
“That doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”
I swear fear flashes in her eyes for the briefest of seconds, and I don’t understand why.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m actually a little crampy. I’m sorry.” She tugs at her shirt to lower it, her shoulders rounding protectively.
I turn her to face me and force her gaze to mine. “I want you, Rina, but I’m never going to push you into something you’re not comfortable doing or be upset if you’re not in the mood. No need to apologize.”
I mean every word, though a niggling thought snags in my mind.
I could have sworn I saw a tampon box on the counter two weeks ago. I’m no expert in women’s cycles, but that seems awfully fast.
Is something else going on here?
I suddenly remember her claim that she still has feelings for her dead husband. Could that be true? Is she struggling with guilt?
Or maybe it’s Ciro. She could have resurrected feelings for him when they were together.
She’s been so receptive in every other way that neither of those options seems right. If it’s not about someone else, what then?
I don’t have any idea, and I don't like the feeling of being shut out. She’s keeping something from me when I specifically asked her to be open with me. Doesn’t she trust me?
Frustration claws at me to demand an explanation. I tamp it down. Logic tells me I need to give her time instead of beinga dick and pushing her. It’s not easy, though, because as she pointed out early on, I’m an expert at being a dick.
