Page 172 of Unexpected Hero

I’ve heard her sing it before. She doesn’t know that, though.

My fingers find their way to my target, parting her silky flesh until I locate her clit. “Yeah. Taylor Swift, right?”

Her breathing accelerates. “Wow. You were attractive before, James. But you just kicked it up a half a dozen notches.”

That fucking name falling from her lips stabs me in the chest again. Thankfully, she distracts me from the discomfort by bringing up one of her arms to tenderly cup the nape of my neck.

I close my eyes, soaking in the perfect feel of her body against mine and the enticing way she massages my hairline. When I kiss her neck, she tilts her head to the side, exposing more of her silky skin for me to lavish with attention.

At the club, I’m not known for being overly affectionate. After all, that comes from emotions, which I’ve worked my entire life to mask. So much to the point I rarely feel them anymore. While I always take care to ensure my sub’s comfort, I’ve found I’m better suited for those who don’t need all the cuddling and soft touch from their Doms. I’ll do it when necessary, especially in an aftercare situation, but it’s never been natural for me.

But with this woman, it’s as effortless as breathing.

All I want to do is touch her, caress her, kiss her, and hold her. Even if she never wanted to have sex, I’d be content as long as she was in my arms.

Her soft moan vibrates against my chest as I swirl my fingertips around her clit languidly. There’s a tentative sway in her hips that I want to encourage.

“It’s okay to chase your pleasure, sweetness. Rock your hips or put your hand over top of mine to guide my movements. Or you can tell me what feels good.” I kiss her neck. “Just say so if you want me to touch you harder or softer. Faster or slower. You have my permission to ask for anything you want.Anything.Don’t be shy with me.”

“I’m trying. It’s not that I’m uncomfortable with you because I’m not. But I feel... I don’t know. It’s like shame or embarrassment I can’t quite explain.”

“You’ve been at the club for a while now. You must have seen enough to know there’s no shame in taking your pleasure.”

“I know. But it’s different for other people than it is for me.”

“Don’t worry, sweetness. You’ll get there in time. I’m a patient man.”

“You’re amazing. Thank you, James.”

That’s it. I can’t fucking stand it another second.

“Lettie, don’t call me that when we’re being intimate.”

Her hips, which had gradually begun rocking into my touch, grind to an immediate halt, and her entire body tenses.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out.

I grit my teeth, cursing myself for snapping. How do I fucking explain?

Attempting to reassure her, I keep strumming her clit and kissing her neck. “Don’t apologize. I’m not mad. I just don’t care for that name at times like these.”

Never had a problem with it at the club. Not once.

But I’ve never been intimate with a woman I actually cared for before.

“That name? It’s your name, but okay. I’m no sexpert, so what do I know about what gets your rocks off?” She utters a nervous giggle, stopping her adorable rambling. “What should I call you? Do you like sir? Master? Something else?”

“No. Those aren’t for me either.”

Think, think, think. I need to come up with something believable. But the only thing I want her to call me is Tomer. I want my real name on her lips when she’s naked in my arms or shaking with pleasure.

But that’s one dream that’ll never come true.

With a questioning lilt in her tone, she asks, “Uhhh...Daddy?”

I laugh quietly and kiss her neck again, dragging her delicious scent into my lungs. “No, baby. I don’t have a daddy/little girl kink.”

The tightness in her frame subsides, and she resumes rolling her hips. “Well, what do you want me to call you?”

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