Page 67 of Tempting Fate

“Yes, Marni.”

Oh god, I shouldn’t continue. I shouldn’t blur the lines, but with him I couldn’t see straight. “Kitten, your dick would feel so good inside me.”

“Inside your quim? What is it like?”

The innocence of that question should not have sent electricity through my clit, but here I was, practically coming anyway. “My cunt? It’s hot,” I murmured. “Wet.”

“Wet?”

“So wet.”

His desperate moan sent so much heat to my core I wanted to give in. I wanted to climb him, make him beg to feel me, slide that delicious monster of a dick deep inside me…

Stop it. I should not be making this intimate. It wasn’t my place to teach him about sexual pleasure. I was only here to give him relief.

I didn’t say anything more.

Neither did he.

My hand glided over his length as I worked him, tight and slick, flicking my wrist as I reached the head, rippling my fingers over his beads, gripping them hard as he came in long, opalescent spurts.

His moans faded to gasps, leaving him panting, staring at me in wonder, heat simmering in his crystalline eyes.

Shit, shit, shit.

I wanted to ride that beautiful man’s dick all night long. I didn’t want to be just the girl who got him off because his body was struggling through some condensed, delayed development thing. I wanted to be his first kiss, his first blow job, his first everything.

I wanted to be the woman who taught him about pleasure. All kinds of pleasure—and that was dangerous as fuck.

Already, I was being lulled into that sense of trust, that naive hope that this time, they might be genuine, this time he might not change for the worse or try to change me.

I pinched my arm, grounding myself. Red flags, remember? Spoiled noble. Lots of baggage. Not worth the risk.

I slipped out of his hut as soon as I could. What we were doing was intimate, he was discovering his body, of course he was excited by the first person to bring him pleasure.

But, damn, this had better work its way through my system quickly once his kalidi was done.

Voices called out to me, but I waved and kept walking, one foot in front of the other, until I got to my own room, the cool evening air a balm on my overheated skin.

I liked that he’d not asked to touch me. Not that I didn’t like being touched, but my unpredictable nervous system could freak out at the slightest thing, the cause of a number of folks giving up on me, and it was easier to not even try.

To be able to enjoy his pleasure—without feeling pressure for my own body to perform? More than ideal.

I sucked in a breath of calm, of realisation.

That was why these feelings for him were so intense. Airida gave me the space to relax, to not even think about the worries that usually made me twitchy. Maybe that was why I said yes to this, because there wouldn’t be any pressure, and I’d be in control.

There. That was logical.

I relaxed into the cool sheets of my nest and slid fingers into my panties, gasping at the merest brush on my swollen clit. I didn’t dare push inside myself, even though my pussy ached to be filled, so thoroughly soaking, sopping wet. It would have to be, to take Airida’s thick length. And the beads and ridges on him. They would feel incredible when I finally got him inside me.

Might feel. How good they might feel. If I fucked him. If.

I rubbed frantic circles around my clit, choking back a sob as a tight surge of pleasure washed through me.

And breathe.

I lingered in the afterglow, allowing myself a handful of moments to believe it had been real, that I was in his bed, that I wasn’t alone.