Page 63 of Subbing For Santa

“You want to do what you do with your clients?”

“Not exactly.” Reaching up, I lace my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “I give my clients tantric massage therapy. With you, I want tantric sex. You’ve spent the last week basically testing me to see if I’m compatible with your needs, right?”

“Kind of.” He frowns.

“Well, now I need to see if you’re compatible with me.”

“By doing tantric sex?” He tilts his head, studying me, so I nod.

“Yes. Some people find it very confronting and exposing. It’s not for everyone.”

“Is that so?” He grins.

“Yes.”

“Why?” He brushes some of my hair back off my forehead, his eyes filled with desire. “Isn’t it just sex?”

“No. It’s more about making a connection with your partner and the energy your body creates.”

“Connection?” He frowns and again, I nod.

“Yes. Do you think you can hack it, Mr Marx?”

He grins. “There’s only one way to find out.”

His lips claim mine then for a searing kiss. I let him take this moment to relax and enjoy the kiss before I pull back and explain a few things.

“We need to set the mood in the room.”

“How do we do that?”

Grinning, I slip away from him and move to my bag, pulling out some candles I packed in preparation for this. Placing them around the room, I light them before switching the light off to plunge us into the low amber hue that is instantly calming and romantic.

Griffin is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest while he watches me, a light grin tugging at his lips every now and then.

From the other side of the room, I start popping open the buttons on the front of my dress and his eyes flare with heat and excitement.

“Get naked, Mr Marx.”

“Fuck, Aggie. I like hearing you call me that.” He pushes off the wall, tugging his t-shirt over his head in that sexy way guys do, before he starts to work on his jeans.

“Of course you do. You’re a man that rules over others. You like the power it gives you.” I drop my dress to the floor, and he nods while his eyes rake over my near naked flesh.

“It feels like more than that when it falls from your lips.” He rasps, and my cheeks heat.

“How so?”

“I’m not sure.” He shrugs. “For some reason, I don’t feel like I have the power when it comes to you. You honestly have the power to bring me to my knees.”

Shit. His tone is so serious. He means more than the tantric experience we are about to embark on, and it ignites butterflies in my chest.

Obviously, his demand from last night that I say I’m his, is a sign that whatever this is between us means more than some casual fling to him. Surprisingly, I want it to be more, too. But just because I want it, doesn’t mean it’s right. We are in the very early days. Anything could happen.

When his jeans pool around his ankles, I move forward across the plush carpet, the pads of my feet sinking into its luxuriousness. Griffin kicks the denim away from his feet and moves forward to meet me in the middle. When he reaches out to touch me, I hold my hands up to stop him, shaking my head.

“No touching.” I whisper, and he freezes, his eyes going wide.

“No touching?”

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