Sugar

He sucked and bit and I was pretty sure he was leaving a few hickies. His free hand curled around my wrist and brought my hand to his crotch. I twisted out of his grip and caught his hand, pressing it to my pussy.

“Finger me.”

“Bossy.”

“Do it.”

My panties were shoved aside as his finger drove into me. I arched beneath him, bucking against his touch, riding his palm as I still held his arm.

“Harder.”

“Demanding little thing.”

“Just do it.”

He wedged another finger into my cunt and fucked them deep. “More?”

“Yes. Faster.”

“Christ.”

His fingers pumped hard, and my eyes rolled back as he hit that magical nerve where heaven and earth met inside of a woman’s body. I screamed, trembling as my first climax rushed through me, bathing his fingers. We both were out of breath, but he was far from finished.

I met his stare and gave a satisfied smile. “Now, clean it up.”

He drew back and arched a brow.

Recalling he would still be my neighbor tomorrow, I wavered between the girl he knew, the submissive woman men wanted me to be, the dominant control freak I was, and the class act I wanted to achieve. Fuck. Fuck! I shouldn’t be thinking this hard.

I pleased men most of the time. This was my time. Mine and Noah’s. What if he didn’t like this side of me? What if no one would ever like me aside from Gavin? Did this part of me have to disappear with the rest of Avery Dean Mudd?

Realizing he was no longer touching me and still looking at me with that confused expression, I suddenly wanted to crawl out of my skin and be someone else.

“Forget it.” I shoved him off.

“Wait a second!” He leveled his body over mine, refusing to let me up. “What’s happening here? Is this… Are you, like … one of those women who…”

Oh, my God, I couldn’t do this. I searched for my bra. “This was a mistake.”

“No, it wasn’t.” He yanked me back to the bed when I tried to escape again, this time pinning me in place. “Talk to me, Avery.”

My lips pressed tight. I wasn’t going to spell it out. Or maybe I was because I still wanted to fuck him. “I like control.”

He laughed. “No shit.”

“No, I mean I really like it. I … get off on telling you what to do.”

He sat back on his heels. “All the time?”

I shrugged. “In bed.”

“And what do I get?”

I flashed him a cocky smirk. “You get to fuck me.”

“But on your terms.”

“Yes.”

“What if I don’t like your terms?”

I shrugged again. “That’s the only way this can work.”

“Why? Did something happen to you?”

“No, nothing fucking happened to me.” His question riled my defensiveness, and I silently told myself to calm down. “It’s just … how I am.” I huffed and looked away. “I can be nice, you know! It’s not like I’m going to strap on a leather skin suit, gag you and shove a ten-inch dildo up your ass.” Not without asking…

“Oh, I know you’re not fucking doing that.”

This was getting awkward. He was thinking and taking too long to make up his mind. The moment was rapidly dissolving, and the longer he contemplated the situation, the more I wanted to rewind and erase the whole night.

“Forget it.” This time when I tried to get up, he shoved me back down—hard—and moved so fast my thread of authority snapped.

His hands pinned mine to the pillows, and his knees trapped my legs immobile. “Don’t move.”

Trying to play it cool, I kept my tone dry. “I think you misunderstood the dynamic.”

“I think you misunderstand me. You basically want me to do whatever you say. I’m not used to that. I need a second to think.”

“Look, I get it if it’s not your thing. That’s why I told you this wouldn’t work—” His hand closed over my mouth, and my eyes bulged.

Oh, he did not just shut me up! I bit him.

“Ouch!” He jerked his hand back and examined his palm where teeth tracks left little divots. “You bitch.”

“Give me my shirt.”

“No.”

“Noah.”

“We’re not finished.”

“I think we are.”

He tipped his head back and glanced at the ceiling, mumbling something I couldn’t make out.

“What?”

“I said, I can’t believe I’m about to do this. Tell me what you want.”

Was he serious? I didn’t expect him to actually agree. Figuring this was some sort of trick, I started small. “Kiss me.”

He leaned down, and I turned my face away.

“Not there.”

He paused, mouth a few inches from my cheek and chuckled. “I’ll get to that—”

“Start there.”

“This is hot to you?” His frustration was palpable.

“No. This is a waste of my time. I knew you couldn’t take orders from a girl.”

“Yes, I can, but I want to be with you, not just service you like some…”

I rolled my eyes to fight off any sting of tears. I didn’t do well with criticism. Who knew why I was the way I was. This whole exchange was to prove a point about how mismatched we were as any sort of couple, so I kept up the cold, selfish act.