But his laugh died quickly, and then he was sucking on my earlobe, sending sharp bolts of lust to my pussy. “Does it feel like I’m mocking you?”
“No.”
“How does it feel?” He swept my hair off my other shoulder so he could give the same attention to that side as he had to the first.
“It feels like you’re trying to be nice,” I admitted. “But it’s hard to trust you. Especially when I don’t know what your motives are.”
Swiftly, he turned me to face him. “Trust is the one element here I can’t reproduce. You’ll either believe me or you won’t when I tell you that my motives aren’t diabolical.”
“Then why? Why do you want to do this?” I wasn’t even sure what this was, if it wasn’t mocking.
“Because once upon a time, an asshole who was a decade older than you took something precious from you without acknowledging how beautiful and precious it was. You were honest and open about that. You gave me what I asked for and this is how I’m moved to respond—with a reward.”
“And my reward is another decade older asshole who recreates the whole thing?”
He lifted my chin up with two fingers and stroked my jaw with his thumb. “Not recreate. Replace.”
The muscles in my shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. There was a nice sentiment there, if I believed it. I wanted to believe it.
Could I?
“I don’t know if this is going to work if it’s only about me. I need to feel like you want this too.” My heart tripped in my chest. Of all the vulnerable moments he’d pulled from me, that confession was one of the most raw.
Instead of answering with words, he bent his head down and kissed me. It was slow, at first, his lips moving, not with caution, but with self-control. I sighed into it, opening my mouth for him, and his tongue slipped in, probing tenderly at first then more aggressively. His hand cupped my jaw, angling my face the way he wanted it while his other arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me flush against him where I was met with a very thick, very hard bulge.
“Does it feel like I don’t want this?” he asked, pulling back just far enough to speak.
“No. I can’t say that it does.” I wanted to say more, something that would make me feel less unguarded, something that would help me gain my footing.
But he was kissing me again, more eagerly than before, and the thoughts and doubts disappeared from my mind replaced by the captivating sensations of his teeth and tongue, nipping and licking along my lips, along my jaw, down my décolletage.
I was dizzy and disoriented when he finally pulled away so he could tug me toward the bedroom. After pushing the door open, he stepped aside for me to pass ahead of him. I walked in and gasped.
The bed had been made up with luxurious satin bedding. Plush pillows were piled at the head. About a dozen candles were lit around the room, champagne sat chilling in a metal ice bucket. There were four separate vases with bouquets of roses, and, the best part, red and white petals were scattered across the bed and floor.
Behind me, piano music began playing softly, and when I turned back to Edward I discovered it was coming from his phone. He set it down on a side table and removed his jacket, his eyes never leaving mine.
My breath caught between my ribs. There was gravity in this moment. Romance and affectionate gestures were not his style. Even when someone else had thought of them, he was not the type to carry them out, and seeing him now, witnessing what he’d done for me was both overwhelming and confusing.
I shook my head as he strode toward me, unsure how to process any of it.
When he reached me, his hand once again cradled my face. “Do you want this?”
It was the first time he’d ever made me feel like I had a choice. Four simple words, and for all the ways he’d held me captive, his asking made the entire scene everything that my first time hadn’t been. Then, I’d felt trapped. What happened with John had seemed inevitable. Like it was what I was destined for, to lie down and be quiet. To be a good lay.
Now, with Edward, a man who never asked permission, who took what he wanted and gave even less, his offer of a choice was an enormous gift.
And yes. I did want it. More than I could bear.
“I’m going to need you to say it,” he prompted when I hesitated too long in answering. “Nothing happens without your consent.”
I stepped into him, brushing my lips against his. “Yes, please, Edward. I want this, please.”
He devoured me. He worshipped my mouth, his hands raking through my hair, occasionally pulling too hard, the sting of pain making me wetter than I already was. It was a relief to have the rough mixed with the soft, to know that the man I was kissing was still really Edward and not just this persona he’d invented for this game, not just the guy he thought I wanted.
Because that’s what I really wanted—him. Only him.
Kissing led to groping, and when I’d managed to wrestle both his tie and his belt from him, he broke away to lead me to the bed. With the flat of his hand at my back, he pushed my torso down to the mattress.
“Stay,” he said before dropping to his knees where he took off my shoes, kissing the instep of each foot as he did. Then his hands stroked up my legs, pushing them wider apart as he settled between them under my skirt. My thong was quickly removed, and then his mouth was there, licking my clit.
He teased me with his tongue, spiraling me up with flat brutal passes over my bud, making me pant when he followed with featherlike flicks with just the tip. The first orgasm came quickly, like a gut punch, the full force of it felt on the onset. If I hadn’t already been doubled over, the climax would have taken me to that position.
Edward stood and lay his torso on top of mine. I could feel the ridge of his cock pressing against my ass as his breath blew hot at my ear. “I cannot imagine a better taste than your pussy. My favorite flavor.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, and my chest tightened, wanting to believe it. Not sure how much of this was an act.
“Do you mean that?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“Only honesty, remember?”
My cheek was still pressed into the mattress, away from him. He couldn’t see the doubt on my face as I echoed him. “Only honesty.”
Was that really what this was? Honesty? It felt too good to be honest.
His hand worked the zipper of my dress, pulling me to a standing position when it was all the way down so that it would fall to my feet. I’d gone braless, and my muscles tensed with the realization that I was now naked while he was still almost fully clothed. It made me feel off-balanced. Defenseless. Vulnerable.
But that was always the tilt of power between us, whether I was nude or not, and as disarming as it could be, I was beginning to learn that there were benefits too. Don’t be so scared you miss out on the good stuff, I’d said to baby Liam.
I could have been saying it to myself.
With the next breath, I let the strain release from my body.
“That’s it, little bird,” Edward said, turning me to face him.
Even his pet name for me made me feel small. Was that really so terrible? To be littler than him? For him to be able to manage me?
As he tossed me swiftly to the bed, I decided maybe it wasn’t terrible at all.
He crawled up over me, spreading his body along mine before taking my mouth in his. He tasted like me—his favorite flavor—and another wave of lust rushed between my thighs. Soon, he moved down to suck on a breast, tugging roughly at my nipple until it was a sharp peak.