Page 85 of The Perfect Mistake

Alec grabs a glass of water from my kitchenette. He drains it before getting a refill and heading back to me. “Here,” he says and hands me the glass.

I drink, and he sits down next to me on the bed. He reaches for me immediately, his right hand smoothing over my stomach, my hipbone, and down to my legs. He spreads them a little and traces the redness on the inside of my thighs.

He frowns. “I was rough.”

“I liked it.”

“Mm-hmm. I’ve craved you for so long,” he says. It comes out as a matter-of-fact, but it makes warmth spread through my chest. He’s still frowning as he traces the inside of my other thigh, pushing the two apart wider. The intensity of his scrutiny between my legs makes me a bit self-conscious. “Hopefully you won’t be too sore.”

That makes me chuckle.

He looks up, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“I’ve been sore most days of my life. I used to stretch and dance for a living. I’ll be perfectly fine.”

His expressions turns into anger. “Fuck. Your hip. I shouldn’t have wrapped your legs around me.”

“First of all, I did that, and it was perfectly fine. As long as you don’t want me to do twelve consecutive fouettés in bed, we’re good.”

His hand switches to my hip, smoothing over the skin. His expression turns thoughtful and a little closed off, and I don’t want that. I don’t want him to retreat.

I don’t want him to regret this, and I don’t want him to feel guilty.

“What are you thinking?” I whisper.

His index finger traces along one of my ribs. “That you’re just as beautiful as I imagined, and feel even better than I hoped,” he says.

“You sound like that’s a problem.”

“It is,” he says. But there’s a tilt to his lips. “Because I’m not going to be satisfied with just once, sweetheart. Figuring out what turns you on is my new favorite thing.”

I pull him down and he lets me, stretching out beside me on my bed. I kiss him, and he kisses me back, the slow, skilled, leisurely tempo taking over again.

Alec runs his large hand down my chest, his fingers skimming between my breasts and then dipping into the centerline that runs down my stomach. “Tell me,” he says, and his voice is the raspy one I love the most. “What things from those books do you want to do in real life?”

I chuckle. “Alec.”

“Tell me,” he repeats. His hand caresses my left hipbone. “If it’s too hard to say, I’ll give you options from what I read. Dirty talk?”

I turn my head into his shoulder. “Yes. I… yes. I’d like that a lot.”

“Mmm. Praise, maybe.” His hand brushes down to my thigh, fingers sweeping. “I’ll keep telling you how good you feel. Look. Taste.”

I close my eyes. “Yeah. That sort of thing. If it’s real, of course.”

He chuckles. It’s a husky sound, and my eyes fly open again. I have to look at him when he laughs like that. It warms his entire face. “Sweetheart, talking dirty to you will be the easiest thing I’ll ever do.”

“Oh.” I run my fingers along his jaw. His five o’clock shadow is heavier tonight. “I could do the same, you know.”

“Mmm. Tell me I’m your good girl?”

My eyes widen, and then I chuckle. “Yes, if that’s what turns you on.”

“I think I’ll call you that instead, if you like. Lord knows it’s the truth. You’re so good, it’s painful.” He drops his mouth to my neck, kissing across the sensitive skin. “Sex in public?” he asks. “That was in one of the scenes you highlighted. I would be game, but I have too much on the line for that. ”

“Oh. No... that’s fine. It’s not my jam, either.”

He pauses. “Then, what was it about that scene in particular that you liked?”

---