He bands his hand around my wrist before I can back away. “Don’t chicken out now, angel. And don’t worry. We don’t have to deal with that until you’re ready.”
My breath turns panicky and short. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. And your stitches. I should have thought of that. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not going to hurt me. I don’t trust easily. But if there was anybody I could trust to keep an eye on your patch job while I’m giving you this lesson, it would be you.” He gives me a look as he says this. Half-chastising. Half-tender. “You ain’t going to hurt me, I promise you.”
He trusts me? My heart melts a little. Still, I have to warn him, “But—”
He cuts me off before I can finish. “I promise you.”
Maybe I would have protested again, but he yanks me forward before I can, and the next thing I know, I’m on a collision course with his chest.
He catches me before I slam into him—as easily as he knocked me off balance. My soon-to-be teacher lover holds me up below my armpit with his free hand, and the handcuffed one keeps me from falling forward at my hip.
A thrill sizzles down my spine at the display of easy strength and power in him.
“Now put a knee on either side of my waist. Careful. I know you got it in you to get in position without hurting me, and I’m pretty sure you ain’t okay with me holding you like this.”
No, I’m not, and as it turned out, he’s right on both counts. I place my knees on either side of his legs and gingerly settle myself in his lap.
Or at least, I try to. His erection pulses under his sweatpants. Insistent and demanding.
“Don’t worry about that,” he tells me. “Kiss me. Kiss me until you can relax.”
I didn’t see how kissing him would relax me—like at all.
But kissing’s something I’m actually good at. I do as he says, carefully tangling my tongue with his. Not too weak, but also not too aggressive. Just like I learned from countless articles and magazines.
He tastes…it’s hard to describe. Wholly Masculine. Like leather, fistfights, and beer—even though I know he hasn’t had access to any of those things since I handcuffed him to my bed.
At first, the kiss goes exactly like I think it will. It’s nice and perfectly pleasant—just like all my kisses with all the guys I’ve dated before, I managed to ruin it. At least I’m not messing this part up.
But he pulls away and says, “Hold up, you’re not doing this right.”
I’m not? But no one’s ever complained about my kissing before.
“You’re in my lap,” he says. “When we’re kissing, I need you rubbing against me. Show me you want me as much as I want you. Make me feel like I’m a man you want to fuck. Now let’s try this again.”
This time, he doesn’t wait for me to tentatively press my lips into his.
He pulls me forward and claims my mouth.
I can’t even call it a kiss. It’s more like total possession. There’s no tentativeness, no holding back.
He claims my mouth with his hand heavy on the back of my neck, consuming me with slow but strong tugs of his tongue. He kisses me like this, and suddenly, there’s no need for more instruction. I’m moving my hips.
Not on purpose just because he told me to either. For once, I’m not completely focused on trying to please the guy I’m with or not mess up. I’m seeking something as I rub myself against his heavy erection.
This thing I’m seeking…it’s just for me. I undulate my bare pussy on top of his erection.
He pulls back from the kiss again, and this time I’m not surprised. I know I was doing it all wrong, and this time for dark, selfish reasons.
“That was better than I imagined when you left me here all alone while you were off at work.” He smiles up at me and brings his free hand down to settle on my hip. “Fucking perfect. You’re perfect. You know that?”
I’m not perfect. Not in the least bit. Neither of us would be here if I was anything close to perfect. But his compliment washes over me like warm water…until he moves his hand to touch me between my legs.
Before I can stop myself, I slap him across the face and jerk sideways in an attempt to get away.
“The fuck?” He bands his arm around my waist and just manages to catch me before I topple the both of us over.
Then looks at me, like I’m exactly what I am. Crazy.
What have I done?
I cover my mouth with one hand and whisper, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
CHAPTER 10
I did it again. I messed up.