Page 41 of Pray for the Damned

I reach across the table and take her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “You’re doing great. You don’t need to be self-conscious about any of your answers. I’m not judging you.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“How so?”

“You’re experienced in all of this. I only know what I’ve read in books, and this feels a lot different to that.”

I chuckle. “Would it help if I told you something about my experience?” I ask, but don’t give her a chance to respond before I continue. “I haven’t been with anyone in a decade. I’ve watched scenes, and I’ve learned everything there is to know about being a Dom, but you’ll be the first woman I’ve ever scened with.”

Her mouth drops open in surprise, and it takes long seconds for her to think through what I’ve just told her. It’s an easy assumption for her to make, that I’m experienced with everything we’re discussing. And perhaps the years of watchinggives me a certain level of just that, but there’s something special about the fact we’ll be each other’s firsts in this.

I hate the idea that she was with anyone while I was living in the shadows. But she did what she thought she had to at the time, and even when I was desperate to intervene, to stop her from sleeping with anyone that wasn’t me, I couldn’t out myself back then. No matter how badly I wanted to at the time.

“You haven’t…” She trails off.

I shake my head. “I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

“I guess I was waiting for the right person.”

Waverly rolls her lips together in contemplation before she nods. “Ask me whatever questions you need to.” The tension hasn’t completely left her shoulders, but my confession has set her at ease, even if it’s just for the moment.

“Have you ever been choked?”

Her eyes widen for a moment before she shakes her head.

“Would you like to be?”

“Yes,” Waverly breathes, and my cock twitches behind my zipper. Lord have mercy. I don’t know how I’m ever going to survive her, but if I die at her altar, I’ll die the happiest man on earth.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

WAVERLY

Idon’t know if I should be weirded out by the fact Emmett has never scened with anyone before.

Why pay the ridiculous membership for the Scarlet Lounge and then never actually use it?

But as strange as it is to me, it also brings a certain amount of comfort. Perhaps if he hasn’t experienced any of this either, he won’t know I’m not good.

The idea of being choked by the man sitting across from me practically turns me into a puddle, my core aching with desire as he watches my every move.

His eyes darken as he watches my reaction to his question, and it takes everything I have not to launch myself across the table at him.

It’s never been like this before.

It’s been desperate and disappointing, and nothing like I’ve read about. But I have a feeling that ends tonight. I have a feeling this man is going to ruin me for everyone that comes after him.

“You know I like to watch?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes.”

“How do you feel about being watched?”

I consider the question. The other night when I came all over my fingers in the middle of the club at his instruction was one of the hottest moments of my life. Actually, scratch that. It was, without a doubt, absolutely the most earth-shattering experience. But could I replicate it in front of more than just him? Could I allow him to play with my body, hand over all my power, and accept that there are others watching the private moment? I’m not so sure.

Sensing my indecision, he nods. “We can come back to that. It doesn’t have to be tonight.”

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