The Locke hovering above me is still staring. Eyes waiting, patiently, for me to give him an answer. Wanting to cater to me, because that’s what my Lockedoes.
It’s a type of kindness exclusive to him. Even if I don’t think he can deliver every one of my fantasies, it would be wrong not to at least open my deepest thoughts to him. Just like he did with me those few nights ago.
Pushing myself on to my elbows, I set my mind straight.
“I know what type of sex I like. I’m not sure if you’d be okay with it-”
“I am.” He dips down to press a sweet kiss against my forehead. It’s both what I need, and not at all what I want. “Whatever it is you ask of me, is what I’m going to give you.”
“I believe you believe that. But I’m not sure you can give it to me. And if you can’t, that’s okay!”
“Rosalie.”
His jaw clenches. The muscles beneath his cheeks move, tight and shifting, and it looks eerily similar to the Locke I see in my late-night fantasies.
“Don’t doubt what I’m willing to give you, please. Just tell me what you want.”
My heart is working overtime when I breathe in. “Okay. Being direct—I don’t want you to be nice to me. And preferably not quiet. No slapping but… manhandle me, definitely. Don’t get me wrong, I like the shy, sweet side of you. That’s what made me like you to begin with, actually. But in bed…”
I expect there to be a long pause of Locke letting the words sink in. There isn’t.
Only seconds after I trail off, he’s ripping his shirt over his head and pointing a stare at me so intense, I retreat into the sheets.
I don’t get enough time to admire the defined muscles of his chest before they flex, with Locke leaning over me, voice dropping. “Yeah? Is this your way of saying you want it rough?”
“Yes.” His free hand finds its way into my hair. Pulling and making me gasp. I’m not sure why I ask a question I know the answer to. “Do you think that’s something you can do?”
Locke drops his mouth to the side of my neck. Groaning, he bites into my throat. “Didn’t I tell you not to doubt the things I’m willing to give you?”
I moan, thrusting my hips so I can feel something.Anything.
“Shy doesn’t mean inexperienced. I know how to fuck, Rosie. If you want it rough, I’ll give it to you rough.”
I didn’t think he’dbeinexperienced, and never assumed I was his first partner, but hearing it laid out makes everything sexier. Fantasy Lockeismy Locke, and there’s too many layers separating us. Being next to him isn’t enough. I need to feel him.
“Take your clothes off.”
He laughs, dipping his head into the crook of my neck. There’s still a tilt to his voice that makes me hot all over, but his words hold the same tenderness that’s become synonymous with him. “I am. We will. But is there anything else you like that I should know?”
There is one more thing. One sexual fantasy I’ve had, but never felt connected enough with my past partners to share.
Locke sucks a mark into my skin, thumb tenderly caresses the side of my cheek. Soft and harsh. Careful and passionate. Friend and lover. When it comes to him, I don’t think there’s anything I wouldn’t want to share.
“I want to be overstimulated. Right after I come, I want you to keep going.”
A deep breath blows into the side of my neck. “Until you come again?”
“Yes. Even when I say it’s too much, just keep going.”
Locke moves, head lifting from my throat to hover above me, expression stern. “I told you, if you say stop, I’m going to stop.”
“I know. I won’t say stop, I promise. But when I’m in the middle of it, I might say it’s too much and I can’t take it. But I can take it. And I want you to keep going.”
The cycle of emotions he feels is so strong, I see them physically pass over his features. Skepticism, worry, lust. I squeeze his bicep and answer the silent question.
“I’m sure. I trust you.”
He sighs, nods, and drops his forehead to mine. “If you say stop, I’m going to stop.”
