No, I don’t either. I know I’m going to, though. It depresses me even to think about life without Francesca now. She’s on my mind so much, more than anyone else ever has been. Making her happy is a goal I set out to achieve each day—what if I weren’t around? No one else makes it their mission to make her smile. A world in which Francesca might not feel loved on any given day isn’t a world I wanna live in.
Life without Francesca isn’t something I’m interested in, period.
I caress her face again, watching as my thumb inches closer to her lips. I catch her plump bottom lip with the pad of my thumb, and her brown eyes flicker with need. “Well, you’re important to me, too.”
“I know that. I’m just afraid I’ll lose you.”
“You won’t,” I assure her. “You’re mine already, that’s done. I don’t know how we’ll make this work, but we will. I’m not going to let you go. If my dad found out about us tomorrow, I wouldn’t let you go. It would just make my life considerably harder, because I don’t know to what lengths my dad would go to, to intervene.”
Instead of responding with words, Francesca coaxes my thumb into her mouth, closing her lips around it and sucking.
My cock instantly recalls the magical wonderland of Francesca’s mouth.
Then she slides back, releasing my thumb, and says, “Let’s go to bed.”
I remember all too well how this went down last time. As much as I want her, I don’t need things to progress if she isn’t ready yet. “I’m not all that tired,” I tell her.
Her hand moves between my legs, finding the clear evidence of my arousal, and she strokes my cock through the soft fabric of my pajama pants. “Neither am I.”
Chapter Sixteen
As much as I want her, I catch her hand to stop her rubbing me. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for, Francesca. I’m a patient man.”
“You’ve been very patient,” she informs me, climbing off the couch anyway and tugging on my hand. “And I appreciate it. But you want me and I want you, so what are we waiting for?”
I let her pull me up off the couch, then I settle my hands around her waist and keep her where she is. It’s not exactly sexy, but I point out, “We’re waiting for you to be comfortable. Are you?”
Shrugging with a cute little smile, she says, “I’ve maybe had enough wine. Let’s find out. I’m pretty sure it’s a yes this time.”
“I’m very adamantly against you trying to get yourself drunk to have sex.”
Her brown eyes dance with amusement and she brings a hand up, running the back of it across my jawline now. “We’ve been over this. It’s fine.”
I’m still wary, but I let her go, turn everything off in the living room, and follow her down the hall to my bedroom.
Despite her assurances, Francesca has a lot of nervous energy herself. She’s staying the night whether we have sex or not, so I decide to bring everything down a notch and just ease in.
Nodding at my bed, I tell her. “Get on the bed.”
She obeys, climbing up on the bed and sitting back on her knees. Since I started giving her directions, she seems to be waiting for the next one. Ordinarily I would be just fine with that, but with her I can’t trust that she isn’t just following programming. If she genuinely likes it, great, but I don’t want to take the chance she doesn’t and she’d go along with it anyway.
I take my time unbuttoning my shirt and peel it off. Her eyes follow my fingers on every button—she looks interested, but still nervous. I’ve never had sex with a sexually hesitant woman before, so I still don’t exactly know how to handle Francesca, but I’ll figure it out.
A little smile of pleasure moves across her lips once I’m shirtless and her gaze darts to my face. “I very much like the sight of you without a shirt on.”
“The feeling is mutual, I assure you.” With that, I drop my gaze pointedly to her shirt.
“Oh, right.” She shifts, her hands fluttering to the hem of her shirt, then she yanks it over her head. She takes the time to fold the damn thing, then tosses it on the floor. She peels the leggings off next and ditches them with the shirt.
“What do you like most?” I ask her casually, as I step out of my own pants and walk toward the bed.
“I don’t know,” she says, awkwardly. “I like everything we do.”
“I mean what we haven’t done. Sexually. Is there any position you like best, or you hate that I should avoid?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay.” I nod toward my pillow. “Lie down on your stomach.”