His groan met my ears. I returned to his cock, licking the fluid that had tried to escape in my absence. His moans were higher pitched, needier. His fingertips gently grazed my cheek, and I leaned into his hand, letting him know it was okay to touch me. His trembling fingers spread until he was cupping my face.
I buried my nose against the soft curls at his groin. His cock just barely reached the back of my throat, but when it did, Shiloh exploded. "Beckett!" he screamed as his hips began to pump erratically. He nearly pulled himself free in his exuberance, but I held on, hollowing my cheeks as his desire splashed my tongue. "Professor Crawford," he whispered in awe. "That was my real present."
I swayed back, balancing on my toes as I helped Shiloh remove his pants the rest of the way. "While the taste of your cum is fresh on my lips, I will have to insist on Beckett."
He hissed sharply; I assumed from my crass language. "That was my first blowjob. I mean, I've given them before, but…"
I frowned, not enjoying Shiloh's talk of other men. I got to my feet, needing to readjust my pants before I could stand straight.
Shiloh reached for me, but I settled my hands over his, stilling his palms on my hips. "Do you want me to… do I need to… Should I…?"
It took me an extra moment to comprehend what it was he was having so much trouble asking. I decided he was trying to ask if I wanted his lips on my dick as well. I did, more than anything. But I'd let this go on far enough with him in the dark. Things may have spiraled further than I'd expected, but he'd been wound so tight before. I'd needed to help him relax. Now, he needed to know what he was getting into. "Not at this moment, no. I want to change, and then we need to talk."
"Talk?" he repeated sharply. Anxiety came off him in waves, and immediately, I searched our surroundings, my inner alpha attempting to find the source of his discomfort. There wasn't anything. Just the smells and sounds of him and me alone in my home.
I grabbed my shirt just over my heart. "Not a bad talk, Shiloh. Just a talk. Do you want to wait in the main living room, or do you want to join me?"
"You," he whispered softly.
I held his hand, bringing his knuckles to my lips. "Right this way."
I didn't normally use my cane to maneuver around my home. That was part of the reason why I kept my space so clean. Also, I had the layout memorized. I could identify my furniture by touch and never bothered with low-lying coffee tables—they only became tripping hazards.
"Your home is so gorgeous. I don't know why I didn't expect that," Shiloh said.
I led him up the stairs from the main floor to the master floor. I'd chosen every piece of art displayed on the walls. But I couldn't claim to have decorated the entire home. Some of it was suggested by the designer. "What did you expect?"
"I don't know." Shiloh ascended the last step, his hand still in mine. "I knew you were wealthy. I just imagined more stacks of books and more dust."
I didn't point out that it wouldn't make much sense for me to keep large amounts of books in their hard copy form. I did have an extensive library, but my books were digital. "Do you think differently of me now?"
"No. Goodness no. Everything I learn about you just makes you better." He made that smacking sound he made whenever he closed his lips rapidly after saying something he hadn't meant to say.
I couldn't be sympathetic because I suddenly had to concentrate all my energy on not grabbing him and having my way with his soft curves. He was inexperienced, and until there came a time when that wasn't true, I could never forget that. "I want to change, and then we can talk downstairs."
"Not in here?" Shiloh ask coyly.
My cock throbbed, calling me a traitor for refusing Shiloh's attempts at returning the favor downstairs. That was too bad. Taking the edge off had been important for Shiloh, but I wanted to be alert.
And a part of me feared that if I did let Shiloh touch me and wrap his lips around my dick, I might never let him leave.
I reached my closet and quickly grabbed a pair of sweats from the shelf. I wanted to rip my clothes off, throw the next ones on, and sprint back to Shiloh, but I forced myself to carefully remove my pants, folding them and placing them in the outgoing laundry bag. I lived with discipline and control, and though Shiloh had shattered through both, he alone was the exception.
I pulled my angora cardigan over the white V-neck and stepped out, hearing Shiloh's sharp inhale.
"What's wrong?" I asked as my feet took me toward him like a homing pigeon to its target.
"You look just how I pictured," he confessed.
I found him leaning against the bed.
When I was close enough to touch, he squeezed my bicep. "Soft too," he murmured. Then, in a sharper, less intimate voice, he asked, "Is this entire floor your bedroom?"
"It is." Technically, it was just an open-layout space where I slept, studied, and also worked out. The room was easy for me to navigate and helped save time, having all of my most-used places and pieces of equipment in one area. But the space was large, equaling the square footage of the floor below without the walls. "I grabbed you this, in case you also wanted to change."
I handed Shiloh the silk boxers, soft cotton shirt, and sweater I'd grabbed for him. The clothes were all mine, so they would be too big for him, but they were from several years ago. I didn't know why I never donated them since they no longer fit me but wanted to think it was because I'd known this moment would be coming.
Except that was a lie. Shiloh burst into my life like a comet.
He quickly put on the clothes I'd given him, handing me what he had on. I folded it and put them on my desk before bringing Shiloh back downstairs.
"Are we going to have the talk now?" he asked once we were both sitting on my long leather sofa.
I smiled, not at the trepidation in his voice but the bravery. He was uncertain, but that didn't mean he would cower.
If he could be brave, then the least I could do was put him out of his misery as soon as possible. "I like you, Shiloh—"
"But?"
A soft growl shook my chest. "Interrupting…" I warned.
Shiloh pushed into me, cuddling at my side. "I'm sorry. I'll wait and listen. I promise."
My arm lifted, draping over his shoulders. He fit perfectly by my side. "I understand a relationship between us would be problematic."
His sudden rush of air made me think he'd opened his mouth to say something but remembered his promise before he could interrupt.
"But I'm not the type of man to keep things light. I don't do casual dating," I said, waiting to allow him time to say anything he needed to say.
"I don't want to be casual."
"That's good to hear, but before you decide anything, I need you to understand exactly what I am proposing." I took a deep breath. I wasn't afraid to tell Shiloh what I needed from him, but a part of me was worried it would turn him away. If he wanted to go, I'd have to force myself to let him. "I want control, Shiloh, complete control." My tone went sharp. "It's very important that you realize the level of control I desire isn't what you would normally find in an average relationship, and it absolutely is not something that should be expected of you without your express consent." Always keeping his inexperience in mind, I realized this could be one of his first relationships. I did not want him thinking that any man he encountered had a right to have a say in his every action.