dozen or more orgasms before they were done.
What a boatload of pressure to perform he’d put on her with that carelessly worded vow.
“I mean…” He paused, uncertain of the right words to say in order to paint a picture of safety and promised bliss. “I will be doing all the work. All you have to do is enjoy yourself and the feel of me inside you.”
Still, she mentally pulled herself away.
* * * * *
“I-I’ve never…” It cost her dearly to admit the truth.
He waited for her to finish. She couldn’t say it out loud, not and hold on to her dignity. Their gazes met. She tried to read his thoughts. Surely, she’d spotted disappointment flickering in his eyes.
Soon, he’d be handing her back her clothes and inviting her to leave. What man wanted to waste his time with a deficient lover?
He deserved a woman who could appreciate his many talents, not one who couldn’t…well…just couldn’t enjoy him.
While his eyes remained filled with questions, his chin had tightened with determination. “You will tonight,” he promised.
She doubted that. What they’d done in her dream world was all well and good, but that couldn’t change her from freezing up when it came to performing for a man. Any man. Not even her dream lover could change that. But, she wasn’t going to argue. Over the years she had become very good at faking it.
“I mean it, tender one.” His velvety, deep voice caressed that sensitive spot between her legs. “You won’t have to fake it. You will come for me.”
She swallowed deeply. Every part of her being wanted to believe him.
Don’t open yourself up to disappointment , a slippery voice inside her head warned. The chill from that afternoon crept inside her belly and cooled her courage.
“No,” she whispered. A fat tear rolled down her cheek. “I can’t. I’m sorry…I can’t.”
“Can’t?”
She so didn’t want to do this. She mumbled an apology and, after swiping at her unruly tears, started gathering up her clothes.
He caught her hands. “I understand,” he said. “We know from last night that your mind can perform beautifully. What I’m worried about is your body.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Have you ever experienced an orgasm when you were awake and a man wasn’t around?”
Good God, did he really expect her to answer that ? She pulled away from him and buried herself under the bed covers.
He crawled under after her and propped his chin on his folded hands. They stared at each other in the darkness. He held his silence, waiting for her.
Not willing to trust her voice to do the deed, she nodded once. Slowly. Yes, she had brought herself to orgasm.
A broad smile spread across his lips.
“I’m glad,” he said.
She wanted to feel embarrassed, but he seemed so pleased that she couldn’t help but share in his pleasure. He kissed the back of her hand and then traced the length of her finger with his tongue.
“Has a man ever forced you to have sex with him?” he whispered.
The question shocked her. She didn’t know how to answer him. It wasn’t that she enjoyed lying, but when it came to intimate encounters with men, she was careful to say whatever her partner wanted to hear. If he wanted her to play the part of a wounded dove, she would.
But what if he didn’t want a wounded lover?
He rescued her with his explanation, “What I want to do with you won’t work if anyone has ever forced himself on you.”
She shook her head. “I’ve always been in control.”
“Then perhaps that is the problem, tender. You haven’t given yourself the freedom to simply enjoy.” He paused and she could hear her heart thudding against her chest. “Give yourself over to me. Let me be your master and I’ll give you the world.”
Though it terrified her to give herself over to a man so completely, she found herself nodding. Her body craved him and was willing to do anything…including forfeiting her control…to feel the length of him swell inside