To Save Sir (Doms of Decadence 7)

“Never. You’re usually too protective.” So why was she feeling so apprehensive? Maybe because she’d wanted this for so long and now she was scared she was fucking it all up.

He ran a thumb over her cheek. “Then all you have to do is what feels good. Tonight, we’ll take things slow. Ease into it.”

He took her mouth with his, kissing her, possessing her.

“Not promising I won’t get a bit bossy, though,” he muttered as he reached around and unclipped her bra.

The tightness in her stomach eased. This was Curt. Her Curt. “You wouldn’t be Curt otherwise.”

“Sassy brat.” He drew her bra away then stared down at her breasts for a moment. She resisted the urge to cover herself, but her breath caught in her throat as she waited for him to say something.

“Even better than I’d hoped for.” He lightly pushed her back then dropped his head, taking her right nipple into his mouth, sucking strongly.

“Oh, my God!”

He nipped at the tight nub gently, that bite of pain making everything feel more intense. The pleasure rose, and she brushed her hands over his short hair, down to his wide shoulders, holding on as he moved his mouth to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. He bit then sucked on her nipple until it felt so sensitive she thought she might scream. Her whole body was on fire and filled with such longing she couldn’t stop the whimpers from escaping.

“Damn, you’re responsive. I’m going to have a hard time training you to hold off your orgasm.

What? Why would he want to do that?

And why did he want to talk when she was so close to coming?

“Please, Curt,” she begged as he kissed down her stomach. He pulled back and drew off her skirt. Kneeling on the bed between her spread legs, he ran his finger over her panty-clad slit.

“So wet. So much need. Poor darlin’.”

She cried out as he flicked her clit.

“You need to come, don’t you, baby?”

She curled her hands into the covers beneath her. She’d never been with someone who liked to talk during sex. Normally, they just liked to get straight down to it. A bit of boob work, a few swipes over her clit, then a wham, a bam and a thank you before they headed out the door. But not Curt. Who’d have known he’d turn into a chatterbox during sex?

His gaze narrowed, and he lightly smacked his hand down over her clit. She cried out, the sensation wavering between pleasure and pain.

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”

Oh, God. What the hell had he asked her?

As if sensing her memory lapse, he cupped her mound, the heat of his palm searing her. “Do you need to come, Jenna?”

Why was he asking such a stupid question? Of course, she needed to come.

“Here’s a tip, sweetheart. Until you answer me, you don’t get to come.”

Oh, fuck. “Yes,” she gritted out.

“Yes, what?” He slowly ran his finger up and down her clit. Oh, God, she wanted to feel him touch her. Truly touch her.

“Yes, I want to come.”

He grinned at her. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”

Actually, it had been pretty fucking difficult. But his look of approval warmed the part of her that was constantly in search of praise. She found herself smiling back at him.

He tugged at her panties then suddenly grabbed the waistband and ripped them in two.

“Hey!” She reached for the pieces of material only to find he’d flung them away and was now studying her pussy. Her freshly waxed pussy. Even though she might not have played at Saxons, she’d kept herself groomed. Just in case.