Truly (New York 1)

“Not that I know of.”

He dropped down onto one elbow beside her, propped his head in one hand, and said, “I want to lick your pussy.”

She closed her eyes, the words like a slap. A sting of surprise, followed by a warm wash of pleasure.

“Some people would call it a cunt. Do you like that word, May?” She wouldn’t open her eyes, but she felt him lean closer. “No, you don’t. Your forehead got all unhappy. All right, we won’t use that one. We’ll go with pussy. I want to lick your pussy and suck on your clit.”

He paused, gauging her reaction, which was basically that her hips jerked, and everything that was already wet got we

tter. “I’m going to suck your nipples and bite them, because you liked it when I bit you earlier. I’m going to kiss you over and over again, because your mouth drives me crazy, and then I’m going to sink inside you and fuck you until you’re half blind and begging me to let you come.”

May gasped. Somewhere in the middle of that speech, she’d lost the ability to breathe. He wasn’t even touching her, but she was dying, dying.

“But not,” Ben said, “until you start telling me what you need.”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“You sure as hell can. You already did. You need me to kiss your breasts, right?”

“Yes.”

He dipped his head and placed a chaste kiss on the top swell of one breast. “Like this?”

“No.”

“How?”

“Harder. More …” Oh, damn him for making her do this. Why couldn’t he guess?

“More wet and … and—Come on, Ben. You know.”

He chuckled. “Sometimes I know. Sometimes I don’t know. Do you know what I want right now?”

“You just said.”

“That was my long-term plan. Right this second, I want to know you trust me.”

“Of course I trust you.” She was here, wasn’t she? Naked in his bed? Did he think she did this all the time?

“I want you to trust that you can say anything to me, confess what you want, and I’m not going to judge you. I won’t laugh. I’ll give it to you.” He paused and lifted his head to meet her eyes. “Unless you want, like, three other guys in here with us. That’s not happening.”

May smiled. “I don’t want three other guys.” She stroked the back of her knuckles over his cheek. “I trust you.”

“So tell me.”

She took a deep breath. She could do this. He was right that she needed to. What he was talking about—asking for what she wanted, taking what she needed—that was the foundation of intimacy, and she’d never had it. Not with Dan, and not with the guys who came before him. Sex, yes. But the kind of trust it took to say what she wanted out loud?

Never.

This was her chance. The first time in her whole confined, bounded adulthood when she could tell the truth in bed. Demand things.

She looked at the ceiling. “I, uh. I like it hard.”

“Okay.”

“Kind of … rough? Like when you can’t quite control yourself, that’s the part I like.”

“What else?”