“None of them are as good,” he says, and I hear the grin in his voice. “Or as big.”
“Is being big that important?”
“Oh, yeah. Definitely. It gives more pleasure. You’d know if you tried.” His cock bobs and the pearly drop rolls down its side. “If you let me put it in you.”
“No way that would fit in me,” I breathe, shocked at the thought.
“What do you want to bet? I know you can take it. I know you’d love it.” His eyes seem to glow under his lashes. “It would make you come so hard, Princess. You think you know pleasure, but there’s nothing like the pleasure of letting me inside you.”
Dangerous words. A dangerous game.
I bow my head, fighting the lust, the urge to tear off my clothes and climb back into his lap, this time letting him touch me, pleasure me. Is he right? Would I like having him inside me more than I did rubbing myself on him?
I have a hazy idea about how sex works. I know ladies love men’s cocks and talk about their sizes when they think nobody else is listening. I’ve been invisible for most of my life and nobody thought twice about talking in front of the “damaged” girl. However, I never took such talk seriously. It never felt like something that would happen to me. Lust after a man? After his body? After his cock? Impossible.
Yet, here he is. A living temptation. The last creature I’d ever consider sexy. The last man I’d ever want to touch.
“What do I do?” The desire to get a reaction out of him is undeniable. Biting my lower lip, I become bolder, taking his nipples between my fingers and rolling them, lifting my gaze to his handsome face, trying to read the signs.
“Oh, brave little minx.” He grins, eyes growing heavy-lidded. “Is that a question? Do you want to know if I like it?”
I nod.
“If I’m still talking, being coherent, you may infer I like it—a little. My nipples aren’t sensitive like a woman’s.” He licks his lips. “Like yours would be.”
I smooth my hands over his muscular arms, then down his sides, and he shivers.
“Ticklish,” he clarifies. “My sides are good torture spots if you want to extract information out of me.”
I laugh. “Noted.”
“Now, if you move lower…” He winks. “If you want to know what a man likes… touch me lower, Princess, as you did earlier.”
I want to. Been dying to. Slowly, I’m realizing how much I’ve kept back and how much I wish to do this, against all the rules. I always thought rules were good, there for a reason, to protect us, but breaking them is sweet.
No, not sweet. Essential. Necessary. Unavoidable, if I want to break out of my bitter shell of loneliness and seclusion, ignorance and avoidance.
I have regrets in my life. Not saying goodbye to my parents before they were gone forever. Not venturing out of the manor for most of my life. Not fighting for more, thinking I deserved little. What if I don’t act on my impulse, on my desire and my feelings, and then I regret it forever?
I blink at my hands that have trailed down to his navel and the trail leading between his legs, to his cock that’s hovering against his stomach. I avoid touching it at first, smoothing mypalms on either side of it, feeling the muscles of his stomach quivering, tightening. Rippling.
His strength always impresses me and affects me on many levels. I love how his body is built, how powerful he is.
I trail my fingertips down to the cut of his thick thighs, circling the area he wants me to touch, denying him the gratification, wanting to see his reaction.
His hips rise, his cock jumps when I slide my hands to his inner thighs, so close to his knot, and yet not touching.
His breathing is choppy, ragged, and a flush has worked its way into his cheeks and down his neck. He looks less in control now. Wilder than before. He’s watching avidly my every move, the muscles in his arms straining as he struggles to keep his hands locked behind his head.
Struggling not to reach for me, or for his cock, I’m not sure.
I study the knot at the root of his cock, the tight skin, the way it rests on top of his balls. I’m becoming familiar with his body, his aroused state, the gleam of his amber eyes. Those wolf ears are so cute on him, and his sharp teeth… I want to feel them on my skin.
I let out a hushed breath and slide my hands closer to his knot, watching that magnificent body tense more, ridges and planes leaping out in stark relief.
Finally, I cup my hands around his knot, and he jerks, cursing and bending toward me. His knot is firm, warm. His cock is hard as a rock when I slide my hands up to curl my fingers around it.
He’s gasping for breath now, his entire, tall body shaking, his gaze fixed on my hands around his cock. I tighten my hold on him, moving my hands up and down experimentally.
