Follow Me Darkly (Follow Me 1)

I shake my head.

“When you dropped your purse, you wouldn’t accept my help. You had to maintain a semblance of control in the situation. Then there was the condom.”

I bite my lip.

“Yes, I saw it. Another way you keep your life in control.”

“Because I don’t want to get pregnant?”

“It’s more than that, and you know it. If a situation arises where you want to have sex, you’re ready. You don’t have to rush to the pharmacy for protection.”

“A lot of women carry condoms around.”

“Less than you might think. Some depend on other methods, or they run to the pharmacy as needed. Some are concerned only about pregnancy and not diseases.”

“And you know this because…”

“I’ve been with a lot of women.”

Well, I asked for that one.

“I had a feeling about you. About your need for control. Then, after our first dinner and my attempt to seduce you, I knew for sure.”

My mouth twitches, but I don’t respond.

“I recognized it in you. I recognize it in people because it’s part of who I am as well.”

I nod. His words don’t surprise me. At least not the part about who he is. What’s odd is that he wants someone with the same tendencies.

“I wouldn’t be where I am today without knowing how to exercise control in every situation.”

I nod again. This not-talking thing is becoming more bearable. Is he still going to punish me? I both love and hate the idea.

“That includes controlling you, Skye. Right now, I control your pleasure. I have leverage over you. Do you understand?”

I don’t respond. Is this a game to him? Seduce someone who’s used to being in charge and take that away from her? I’m not sure how I feel about that. All I know is I still want him. I want him more than ever.

“I asked if you understand.”

I’m not sure I do, but I nod once more anyway. I’ve come this far, and I’m not leaving without an orgasm.

He pushes me down onto the bed. “Lie down.”

I obey. What else can I do?

He spreads my legs and draws in a breath. The swift intake of air whooshes in my ears. He’s right. My sense of hearing is heightened.

“Your scent intoxicates me, Skye,” he whispers, his breath a cool breeze against my thighs. “I can sit here between your legs forever and never get tired of it.” He inhales again, this time holding his breath longer until he exhales, again cooling my flesh.

A soft sigh emerges in my throat. Can I sigh? Does that constitute talking? I hold it back, going rigid.

“Relax, baby. No need to tighten up right now.” He inhales once more. “As much as I adore your smell, you taste even better.”

His tongue begins at my perineum and slides up over my slit to my clit. I gasp sharply. He glides over my clit, swirling around, and then he closes his lips around it and sucks ever so slightly. He’s lighting my fuse with his slow and deliberate movements, and he’s driving me wild.

I let a sigh escape this time, and a moan follows. Who cares if it goes against his no-talking rule? I need to release the tension somehow. I controlled the last sigh, but he asked me to give up control. Part of that is making the noises my body needs.

He doesn’t berate me for releasing the sounds. In fact, he seems spurred on, and he increases the speed of his tongue. I grip the comforter in both my hands and arch my back, undulating my hips as I chase his tongue. He’s deliberately ignoring my clit now. He shoves his tongue into my pussy and then licks and pulls on my labia. God, it feels so good, but I need… I want…

Yes! A short lick on my throbbing clit. The fuse is lit once more. Keep going, Braden. Please keep going.

But he strays again, going back to eating my pussy. “You’re so wet,” he says against my flesh. “God, you drive me wild, Skye. You’re so responsive to everything I do.”

Yes. Yes, I am. Please. Please. Please let me come.

As if in answer to my thoughts, he slides his tongue up my pussy and grabs hold of my clit once more, this time nipping harder. Once. Twice. Then three times. The fuse is burning. Almost there.

He thrusts two fingers into my heat, and—

He releases my clit.

His fingers penetrate me, fill me, and the ache of the emptiness begins to wane, but the fuse has burned out. He released my clit too soon.

Damn!

I bite my lip to keep from demanding what I want.

And then it dawns on me.

He knows exactly what I want. My body speaks volumes louder than my mouth ever can.

He knows.

He fucking knows.

He’s doing this to me on purpose.

This is fucked up. If I knew my own body better, maybe I could force an orgasm. But I don’t orgasm on demand. I never have. As much power as I exercise over my own life, I could never attain climax by myself or with someone else.