Page 37 of Wes

I chuckle. “Told you taking the panties off would be your loss. It ruined my addition to the outfit you chose.”

“You fucking kidding me? This thing is just framing you for me. Brace yourself. I don’t think I can be gentle right now.”

His erection tenting his black pants confirms he’s as hungry as I am.

“Don’t be,” I demand.

My outburst gets him to freeze an inch away from my skin.

Lifting his eyes to mine, he growls, “Bad girls don’t get to come.”

“Sorry.” He holds my stare. I force myself not to roll my eyes. “Sir.”

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against my inner thigh.

I don’t care who’s in charge as long as his long fingers keep pressing my sweet spots as his tongue flicks my clitoris. I drape my legs over his shoulders, crossing them at the ankles. As he increases the pace of his stabbing fingers and the intensity of his sucking lips, pleasure coils inside me. I grip the opposite edge of the counter, bracing my arms, and dropping my head back when the first orgasm hits me like a Hawaiian wave.

“Fuck! I’m coming,” I wail.

He agrees with moans and a sinful smile I feel inside my drenched sex. My walls grip his fingers and tongue as new, explosive orgasms zing through my muscles, stealing my brain functions. All I can do is feel the intense pleasure he gives me.

When I think I can’t handle this anymore, he slows down and I take deep breaths. I drag my eyes open to stare at the gorgeous man between my thighs. His lips, coated with my release, glisten under the bright lights of the kitchen.

“Thank you,” I mutter, combing his hair with my fingers.

“We’ve only just begun. I’ve got a surprise for you upstairs.” He stands to his height, smooths the dress back in place, and helps me down. “Come.”

My mind floats on a sea of endorphins as I follow him quietly. He keeps our fingers laced as we climb three sets of stairs to the top floor. I blink a few times to clear my eyes when he ushers me into a spacious pent room equipped with the finest sex toys I’ve ever seen. From plush handcuffs attached to the walls to a love-swing hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room to a velveteen-covered St. Andrew’s cross mounted against the far wall.

I press a hand to my chest as air burns it with each breath I take. However, it’s not the pristine white slated ceiling that’s making me claustrophobic. It’s the idea that comes to my mind. I spin around to face Wes.

I blurt, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Poking his chest with an index finger, I challenge him, “I’m not joining your long list of women who have ‘played’with your toys here.” I stab the air with my fingers creating quotes for emphasis.

He grabs my index finger and stops me. Anger and frustration flash in his deep-set eyes before amusement lightens his dark expression.

“You think I’ve brought other women here?”

I nod as confusion seeps in.

“You’re jealous.” He guffaws, nibbling the tip of my finger.

A jolt of electricity rakes my body despite my efforts to remain angry at the man. It gets worse when that spark ignites a quiet wave, which reverberates through muscles still tingling after my recent orgasm.

“No,” I deny, without conviction.

He just smiles and adds, “No need to be. You’re the first woman I’ve brought home. Period.”

He places my palm on his chest, over his heart. The fast beating there matches mine. I run my tongue over parched lips as his heat wraps around me. Even before he asks, I know what he’s going to say. He wouldn’t have brought me to this kind of playroom for good old vanilla sex. My wild side desperately wants to agree. I shouldn’t do that, though.

I inhale deeply and exhale slowly to calm my erratic breathing. “I can’t do kink, Wes.”

His smile falters but doesn’t vanish. “You mentioned that in Brazil. We know each other better now.” He pauses. I shake my head. He knits his eyebrows. “I’ve got to ask. Why?”

I hang my head for a hot second before facing his intense stare again. I can only offer him the truth. “I don’t want to get into this story because it’d ruin our night.” I pause to choose my words. I gesture around the room. “Any type of constraint will trigger me.”

“I respect that,” he mumbles.

Those words make my heart jiggle with joy. “Thank you.”

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