“No suit and tie tonight,” I murmur.
“No. I left the office early and went home, so I had time to change.”
“Oh.” Never having seen him in anything other than a suit, I stand mutely in my doorway, struck by how his straight-fit jeans hug him in all the right places, and how the shirt brings out how intensely blue his eyes are.
“May I come in, peach?” he asks with an amused expression as if he knows I’ve been standing here awestruck by him.
“Of course.” I pull the door wider and usher him inside.
It’s his second time here, but I didn’t give him much of a tour the first time. He pretty much attacked me at the front door and carried me to my room after our sexually-charged encounter in the bar. Tonight’s mood feels mellow in contrast. Something tells me we’re going to take our time, explore things more fully this time around. I’m both nervous and excited.
I lead him from the entryway, stopping at the kitchen to ask, “Would you like something to drink?”
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
Heading to the living room, I watch his gaze bounce around the room as if he’s not only taking in my space, but deciphering my personality too. He wanders over to the bookshelves lining the far wall. They are crammed with paperbacks of every variety and genre.
“Bookworm, huh?” He lifts my signed copy of the mega-bestselling erotic romance from its revered resting place.
“I read on my iPad, but I buy my favorites in paperback too,” I explain.
“Romance, mystery, paranormal.” He skims his fingers along their spines. “You like it all, don’t you?” I can’t help but catch the flirty tone to his comment.
“Yes, but love stories are my favorite.”
“Why’s that?” He turns to face me, his expression turning serious.
“Because. It’s what everyone wants, isn’t it? A partner. Someone to comfort you at the end of a hard day. Someone to love.”
He frowns at me. “Not everyone wants that.”
I want to challenge him, to prove him wrong. I don’t even know why, other than that my belief in love is everything to me, and I will fight to defend it.
“What do you want then?” I lift my chin, trying to force a response from him.
His narrowed eyes latch onto mine. “I’m in charge. Don’t forget that. If I were looking for love, don’t you think I’d have a girlfriend? A wife?”
“Of course,” I stammer, getting the distinct feeling I’ve somehow offended him. “You’re attractive, intelligent. I didn’t mean to suggest—”
“What I want is you on all fours, tits down, ass up.” His eyes darken, and I can feel the challenge radiating off of him.
I’m unnerved and thrown off-balance. His reaction to my declaration that surely everyone must be looking for love was met with harsh rejection that only someone who’s been hurt would have. The unmistakable feeling that he’s been heartbroken washes over me. Is that why he does all this? This control? This no-strings mentoring?
Before I can ponder it further, his hands on my shoulders bring me back to the moment. With steady pressure, he guides me down to my knees, all but signaling our discussion is over.
Gazing up at him, I sink to the carpeting. I hate that he’s shut down our conversation, but recalling our previous lesson, I remember the intense look in his eyes, the almost primal need that seemed to take over. Afterward, he was tender and sweet, and seemed much more willing to engage in pillow talk. So I decide to be a good little submissive during my lesson, and then once he’s satisfied and feeling content, try to get some information out of him. I’m beyond curious about this man I’ve agreed to work with.
“Did you follow my instruction this week, Brielle?” he asks.
My gaze flits around the room as my brain struggles to remember what I was supposed to do this week.
“You didn’t touch yourself, did you?” he asks.
Oh. “No, sir.”
He walks around me so that he’s positioned directly in front of me. My eyes are level with his groin, and I can’t help the smile that tugs on my lips.
“What is it, pet?” he asks, lightly stroking my cheek.
“Nothing.” I cough to cover up my smile.
“Tell me.” His tone is firm, and I know there’s no way I’m going to disobey, despite the truth being quite embarrassing.
“I was just remembering when I…sucked you.”
He lifts his chin, looking up at the ceiling briefly, before bringing his gaze back down to mine. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” My cheeks flush, but it’s the unabashed truth.
His fingertips stroke my throat, running along the column of my neck, and every vivid detail about having his thick length in my mouth rushes back. The bite of discomfort in my jaw, drawing shaky breaths in through my nose, his pungent scent, the groans of pleasure that rumbled in his chest. I’m growing wet already.
“If you behave tonight, I might let you suck on my cock again. But first, tonight’s lesson, yes?” he asks.
I nod, eager to learn all he has to offer.
“Tonight is about you understanding your sex appeal. Practicing the art of lovemaking, without any self-consciousness. Appreciating the true effect you have on a man, Brie.”
I swallow my nerves. “Do I affect you?” I whisper, gazing up at him.
“Does this answer your question?” His hand leaves my cheek, and he grips the bulge at the front of his trousers. Dear God. “You’ve got me hard already, sweetheart. At nothing more than the thought of getting to fuck your tight little pussy tonight. You are a prize, and I’m lucky to have you. Any man would be lucky to have you. Say it for me.”