Beautiful Secret (Beautiful Bastard 4)

I nodded, swallowing a heavy lump in my throat. The oddest twinge came over me, because I felt like I did know him. But upon reflection, it was true; he didn’t know me yet. “We can take a few steps back. Learn about each other.”

Shaking his head, he murmured, “That’s just it. I’m not sure I want to move backward, or that I need to. Why do I need to know everything about you before we enjoy each other physically? I like you. Isn’t that enough?”

I shrugged, feeling my stomach twist as I watched him work through it all. “It is for me. It doesn’t have to be for you.”

“I want it to be. There is a unique freedom I feel near you.”

Smiling into my wine, I asked, “Yeah?”

“You make me feel adventurous and interesting . . . and fun.”

“Fun?” I repeated, with feigned shock. “Mr. Stella, you must banish the thought.”

His answering laugh was deep and warm, sending a shiver across the surface of my skin. “You also make me think about things I don’t consider gentle, or chaste or very proper.”

“Like what?”

He blinked up, met my eyes. “I believe I’d prefer to show you. I just have to give myself permission, if you’d agree.”

It didn’t seem possible that my chest could grow any tighter but it did. I barely managed a hoarse “Okay.”

His eyes were so earnest, so expressive when he asked, “Will you continue to be as open with me as you were last night?”

I nodded, lifting my glass to my lips with a shaking hand. How was this happening—

How?

“In that case,” he said, seeming to tamp down some renewed nervousness, “I know it may be hard to explain such preferences, which is to say, it is difficult to vocalize things that are more a matter of physical reaction . . .” He babbled helplessly, finally looking up at me. “But it helps to know.”

He’d completely lost me. “To ‘know’? To know what?”

Niall swallowed, blinked to his left to confirm the couple beside us weren’t listening in. “To know what feels good,” he said, hesitating. “To be frank, I’m not sure she ever . . .”

“Came?” I guessed.

“Ah, no . . . she always came,” he said, rubbing his jaw with his index finger. “But I’m not sure she ever wanted sex. Wanted me.”

It felt like an elevator car dropped through my stomach, and I needed a moment—and a little wine—to clear any heartbreak from my voice before I could answer him. “Well, then she really is a beast. Like I said earlier, have you looked in a mirror lately?”

He laughed and then seemed to instantly regret it. I felt terrible. “Ruby, I don’t want to malign her. You must understand that she’s the only woman I’ve been with. What I’m trying to say is that we didn’t explore very much. There’s a lot of mileage between getting somewhere and enjoying the journey.” He looked up and grinned, eyes dancing. “Last night—and your uninhibited show—was a completely new experience for me.”

I paused, looking out over the water while I considered how to respond. No wonder he had such a wall up. She’d built a fortress around their sex life a decade ago.

“Do you still love her?” I asked.

“No. Heavens no. But without a doubt our relationship shaped me. I was made very aware of the fact that she had sex with me, for me. Never for her.”

I raised my glass. “Well, I’m fine having it be all about my pleasure, if that helps,” I said, hoping to lighten the mood.

“How very generous of you,” he said with my favorite, dimpled smile. “That’s just it, though. What do women really like? Pornography is rather unhelpful in this way.”

“Not always,” I corrected. “We do like big dicks and dirty talk.”

It was a testament to his newfound comfort with me that he barely flinched.

“But oral sex, for example . . .” he began and then left the rest unsaid, simply raising his eyebrows.

“Most women, you’ll find, tend to be a fan of the oral sex.”

He was straightening his silverware, and looked up at me from across the table. “Receiving?”

“Is that a serious question?”

“It is, unfortunately.” He grinned at me, and in that moment—just a heartbeat—he looked so young and playful. “And giving?”

I bit my lip, imagining how good it would feel to drag my tongue around the tip of his cock, hear his quiet groan. “Oh, yes.”

He took a moment to look around the room, just long enough to make sure we weren’t at risk of being overheard by the other diners. “Do women like to swallow?”