“Please.”
“Tell me what you want,” he said, slowly pumping his fingers inside her.
“I need to come,” she gasped, barely resisting the urge to grab his hair and guide his mouth back to the place she needed it.
She waited, expecting him to give her the orgasm now that she’d asked, but instead, he slipped his fingers out, guided her leg off his shoulder, and stood. “I know you do.”
Her lips parted, his movements not making sense in her brain. “What are you doing?”
Hill gave her a roguish smirk and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, letting her taste herself. “You’re going to get what you want…eventually. But after an orgasm is when the fear rushed in last time. So this time, we’re not going to let the fear get its way.” He slipped his arms around her, letting her dress fall back into place, and pulled her against him. His erection pressed against her belly, hard and thick.
“Wanting to come has a way of blocking out almost all other thoughts. That’s why sex gets so many people into trouble.” He slid his hand down to her ass, gripping her gently. “I want you so out of your mind with need that nothing else has room. No space for overthinking or worrying. So all you’re thinking about is pleasure and fun and feeling good. Then, when I fuck you,” he said with utter masculine confidence, “it will be because you begged me to, not because you’re trying to white-knuckle your way through fear.”
Her heartbeat was pounding in her chest and between her legs, but the words were weaving through her with erotic promise. As much as she wanted relief from the tension he’d built within her, what he was suggesting sounded way better. Sex without fear. Sex with a quiet mind. Sex with Hill.
“Sounds tortuous,” she said.
“It does, doesn’t it?” His smile was playfully wicked. “You game?”
She laughed and slid her hands up his chest, finding that his heart was beating quickly, too. Only then did she remember that it’d been years for him. She wasn’t the only one dealing with demons and an empty bed. “I’m game under one condition.”
He cocked his head. “And what’s that?”
She slid her hand down and pressed her palm against the hard length in his pants. Her inner muscles clenched at the thought that he might be inside her sometime soon, filling her, making her feel good. “I get to torture you back.”
Desire sparked in his eyes, and his cock flexed against her palm. “Game on, neighbor.”
“Game on.” She rubbed her hand along his erection, loving the groan he made, and she kissed him. “Show me your bedroom, Hill.”
Chapter Nineteen
Hill wanted to pick up Andi and carry her into the bedroom like he was saving her from a fire, toss her onto the bed, strip her naked, and get back to making her gasp. But before he gave in to the instinct, he stopped himself. Even though he’d worked hard to keep his upper body strong, he couldn’t trust his balance to carry another person with his prosthesis yet. Dropping Andi on the way to the bedroom would be quite the buzzkill.
He could just imagine explaining to Ramsey how he’d ended up putting his date in the emergency room. That metaphor would be way too appropriate for the state of his sex life. So instead, he grabbed Andi’s hand and led her to his bedroom.
He switched on the overhead light by habit, but when the harsh light filled the room, his stomach clenched. He wanted to see all of Andi in full technicolor detail, but if things went well, he’d be getting naked, too. Even though Andi had assured him that she was attracted to him and his disability wasn’t an issue, anxiety and self-consciousness still crept up his spine. There was a reason Christina hadn’t slept with him after his accident, a reason she’d found someone else to go to bed with, and he couldn’t help but think the amputation had a lot to do with it. It was an unavoidable visual reminder that he wasn’t the same man he used to be.
Andi hadn’t known him before, but he didn’t want the spotlight on his disability. He didn’t want her thinking about anything but her own pleasure. Unfortunately, as he glanced around, all he saw were reminders of how he was different. His room was neat, but he hadn’t put certain things away. Like the crutches he kept by the bedside to use if he had to get up in the middle of the night. Or his running prosthesis, which was lying on the dresser. At least the wheelchair he sometimes used around the house when his muscles were aching was tucked away in the closet. Even so, he wished he could steer Andi back out and take a minute to put some things away.
“Wow,” Andi said, oblivious to the internal crisis he was having. “This is how clean you keep your room when you’re not expecting company? I thought boys’ rooms were supposed to be messy. Where are the half-empty beer cans and dirty underwear? The big bottle of lube? I feel cheated.”
Andi’s comment broke him out of his circling thoughts, startling him into a laugh. “The big bottle of lube?”
She looked over at him, amusement in her eyes, and he realized what she was doing. Somehow she’d sensed his discomfort over her seeing his personal space and was trying to distract him. This woman.
“I’m not an animal,” he said with a playfully affronted tone. “I keep the lube put away in a drawer like a gentleman.”
She laughed. “Well, aren’t you fancy.”
He walked over to the side of the bed and turned on the lamp before coming back and flipping off the overhead light. The softened lighting took the edge off some of his nerves and made Andi’s fair skin look like porcelain. He wanted to lick every bit of it.
He took her hand in his, trying to gauge how she was doing, and kissed the inside of her wrist. Her pulse jumped against his lips. When she’d told him her story in the WorkAround kitchen, he’d wanted to personally castrate the sick fuck who had used her and hurt her so badly. But he knew he couldn’t undo what she’d been through. All he could do was show her how different sex could be with someone she could trust. She’d told him it would be easier if he took control, was assertive instead of sweet, which he was one hundred percent down for. He’d always liked being bossy in bed, but he didn’t want to push her further than she wanted to go.
“Still with me?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
Andi’s gaze held his, her pupils dark in the low light, and she wet her lips. “Totally with you. Truly.”
Something tight unlocked in his shoulders at her assurance, and he leaned down to kiss her. She relaxed into the kiss, her hands splaying against his chest, and he took the opportunity to reach around her and unzip her dress. The sound of the zipper was loud in the quiet room, but it only made his cock harder. It was the sound of Andi’s trust.
When he pulled back from the kiss, he reached out and slipped her dress off her shoulders and down her arms. The light cotton fell into a cloud around her feet, leaving Andi standing there in his bedroom in a pale-pink lacy bra and nothing else.