“You’re a conceited little honor graduate.”
“Little?” She raises her eyes.
“You are shorter than me,” I remind her. “It’s time for you to shut the fuck up and put my cock back in your mouth.”
Her eyes grow hot at my words, but the rest of her body reacts differently. She presses her thighs together. Wanting. Ready.
To make me come.
She takes me inside her mouth again, slowly, not yet halfway before she nearly chokes. With one hand on her head, I readjust Rose and shift my hips so the position is more comfortable for her. This angle works better, and she shuts her eyes while she eases me in a little further. She’s not horrible, but she’s not fantastic either.
She stares off, hesitating.
She’s drowning in her beautiful fucking mind. I don’t want her to think about whether she’s doing something wrong or right. I just want her to feel.
“Take your hands off.”
She glares and tries to pull back to yell. I know she wants to try—to prove to me that she can do it, but that’s not what needs to happen. I hold the back of her head tightly, keeping her here.
“You want to please me? Then do as I say.”
Her eyes narrow, but she releases me. And I use one hand and my hips to guide myself further into her mouth. Fuck. That feels good.
She gags once, and her hands fly to my ass, gripping me hard.
“Rose,” I groan. My strokes are shallow and then they become deeper…deeper until tears seep from the corners of her eyes, her body shaking.
Her legs slowly give out, and her back rests against the warm tiles, the water showering our bodies. I drive into her, my pelvis rocking, having complete control on how much of me she takes between her lips.
Her legs squirm, her toes curling and her chest lifting as I quicken my pace.
“That’s it, darling,” I say with a tight breath. “You’re safe with me.”
After a few minutes, I come and slide out of her quickly.
“Spit,” I tell her, sitting on my knees.
She turns her head and does as I say. She wipes her lips, her breathing heavy. I collect her in my arms, holding her while she digests what happened.
Her own arms wrap around my neck, and she presses her forehead to my collar.
I rub her back, the water slowly turning lukewarm. As she rests on my lap, something strong grips my heart. I’ve never been so possessed by another person before. She consumes my body and mind in ways that I can’t articulate.
I comb her wet hair away from her face.
Right now, I want to kiss the place between her legs more than she can possibly understand. I want to taste her and watch her back arch. To see her reach a peak like I just did. After a couple minutes, I begin to readjust her, spreading her legs on either side of me.
She puts a hand to my chest almost as soon as her ass hits the tiles. “No,” she says, disentangling from me. She stands.
I stay on my knees and frown at her change of heart. I’m confused—and that doesn’t happen often. “You can’t deny what your body responds to. You liked it, and that’s all right, Rose.”
“I know.” She nods with more assurance. “I just don’t need you to give me anything in return. That was for you.”
“I want to make you come.” And I’m going to fucking do it. I hold her ankle and kiss her knee. “You’ll love it. Trust me.”
“I don’t care.” She pries my hand off her leg.
I stand up now, my gaze harsh on hers. “I fucking care.”
“This wasn’t quid pro quo. I wasn’t going to blow you so you could get me off.”
She’s jumped on a new page of our book, and she’s left me to find which one that is. “You’re aroused,” I tell her. “Lie to me and tell me you aren’t going to go back to our room and touch yourself.”
She raises her chin, not backing down.
I could shove her against the wall, watch the breath leave her lips, watch her body respond in vicious hunger. She’d let me please her. But I don’t want to push her to that place without understanding her sudden reservations.
She takes one step towards me and says, “I don’t need you to make me come.” Fear swims to the surface of her piercing eyes.
And it clicks. Just like that. I see the ocean beneath her words, the deeper meaning to everything. I bring her into my arms. I don’t care that her limbs are stiff.
She tries to push me away, and I hold her to my chest in a tight hug. My lips skim her ear as I say forcefully, “Vous avez tort.” You’re wrong.
Her body flushes, and I abruptly release her, shut off the water, and find a towel nearby. I wrap her in the soft cotton while she stares at me, questioningly, wondering if I’m going to elaborate.
She finally says, “I’m not wrong.”
“You think your virginity is a prize that I want to win and run away with. Am I right?”
“Don’t manipulate me.” She shakes her head. “I don’t need you to tell me what I want to hear just so you can win that much easier.”
She’s crazy to believe such a horrible fucking thing. I want to hold her longer, tighter, to calm her with my words. “I’m not manipulating you, Rose. You’re smart enough to understand me. And if you truly believe I’d manipulate a woman just to fuck her, then you don’t know me very well.”
“Don’t lie to me.” She points to her chest, her eyes wild. “I’m a pit stop to you. I’m the halfway mark until you find a woman who will kneel in and out of the bedroom.”
“If I wanted a wallflower out of the fucking bedroom, then I’d never even talk to you, Rose.” What gets me off is the way a strong woman can give herself to me the moment she passes through a door, the minute I can overpower a girl during a fit of passion. And then we can go back matching each other once again. Why would I want someone who can’t keep up with me? What enjoyment is there in that?
She shakes her head, not believing me. Why can’t she fucking believe me? It’s the goddamn truth!
“You need someone who will be by your side twenty-four-seven,” she says. “Who has no greater obligations that will divide her attention from yours. I have been a ten-year-long chase for you, Richard. Nothing more.”
I try not to expose my hurt, but it literally tears at my face, too livid to conceal. She’s driven something hard and cold inside of me. “No,” I force. “No, Rose. You’re so fucking wrong.”
She breathes heavily, clutching the towel with a firm grip.
I near her, cupping her face with large rough hands. I stare down into her yellow-green eyes. “You’re not a pit stop. You’re my finish line. There’s no one after you.” I kiss her powerfully, my tongue parting her lips, and she responds. But not as much as I hoped. So I break apart and add, “I want you for eternity, not for a brief moment in time.”
I don’t understand why every time I speak it sounds like an empty pickup line.
I can’t lose her.
Not because of this.
I try to imagine a life without Rose and I see something gray, something motionless—a world without time and a place without color. I see mundane and dreary and lackluster.
I can’t lose her.
Not for anything.
She places a kiss on my cheek. “I want to believe you, and I’m going to trust you, but just as a forewarning, it may take more than words in the future.” With this, she opens the shower door and she leaves me with a new challenge. But I’d be with her without all the tests—all the hoops she makes me jump. I do enjoy them.
But I enjoy her more.