When I Say Yes (Necklace Trilogy 3)

“If I’d wanted nice, I would have walked away before we ever started calling me cupcake which was almost the moment I met you, Dash.”

It’s a joke about the nickname I’ve earned with him, but he doesn’t laugh or smile. He brushes his lips over my lips. “You taste like you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“And you taste like you talk too much, Dash Black.”

He lingers there a moment, his breath rushing over my lips with a promise of a kiss that doesn’t come. Instead, he says, “No more talking. Knees on the mattress, baby.”

CHAPTER TEN

This isn’t just a moment of vulnerability with Dash. On some level, it’s the moment.

There’s a past in this room though, one that Dash doesn’t understand. A past that has my mind singing with insecurity while my heart tells me to lean into an opportunity to move to a new level of intimacy with Dash, to overcome the barriers between us. And there are barriers, all of which we pretended didn’t exist when I moved in with him.

But we both knew they did.

My body ignores my mind and my history that I’ve all but buried because of Dash. My body screams with the need to simply touch him. And Dash’s touch is always just what I need, never too far, and somehow farther than I ever expected I wanted or needed. I inhale deeply, and just do it. My knees hit the mattress, but I don’t go down doggy style, despite the fact that I think this is what Dash wants from me. I’m just not that bold. Instead, I walk a few inches forward and ease back on my haunches, my hands on my knees. There’s silence behind me, complete silence, and goosebumps lift on my skin, anticipation driving me wild.

The past was never about anticipation.

The past was about other things. Bad things that I pretended were good.

This is not the same.

I’ve seen Dash wild, fucking me hard and fast, and to the extreme. That was good. It gave me the chance to get lost, not to think too much. It forced me to see who he was and what he needed, and somehow, it was never too far.

That isn’t now, this isn’t what I expected. This is a slow burn. It’s a game. We’re playing a game, a slow, excruciating game. Because it’s not about anger and hurt and everything his father said to him now. He’s past that, at least for now. This is about the aftermath, about how it affected us. And this allows me to think almost too much.

This is a test. Dash wants to know how much his father’s words affected me and us. And I need to know what he will do when he has my willing control. Will he go too far? Can this man ever go too far with me?

The idea of too far starts to punch at me with memories that I shove aside.

When I believe I can take the silence no more, finally, there’s the sound of clothing rustling, of Dash undressing, and I’m aware that I’m not supposed to turn, but I want to turn. I want so many things right now. All of them behind me and somehow in front of me. Oh, the irony of what was and is and could be. Seconds tick by, and I find myself hyper-focused on just that—what could be. What will be, now, with me naked on this bed? I don’t have to wait long for that answer.

The mattress shifts and Dash is beside me, his hand on my back, between my shoulder blades, but he touches me nowhere else.

I don’t know why I’m shy right now, why I resist looking to my left where I will find him, but I do. That’s a lie, I think. I know why. I’m afraid of what he might see in me. That is until his fingers tease my nipple, and my sex clenches with the intensity of my body’s reaction. I catch his hand and look at him, aware of his naked body, of his thick, heavily veined erection between us, but it’s his eyes that capture me. “Dash,” I whisper, not even sure why.

“I told you, baby. You touch when I tell you to touch.”

“Now,” I say softly, emotions welling inside me, the intensity of what I feel for Dash hard to even explain. “I want to touch you now.”

“And I want you to, cupcake. Just not yet. Lean forward and press your hands to the mattress.”

I draw in a breath as I realize he does indeed want me on my hands and knees. I can’t do it. Not right now. I’m so afraid of what that will make him feel, but I just act. I rotate into him, press my body to his. “I need to tell you something.”