Page 36 of The Devil's Torment

She gasps, but I press on. “If you’re not feeling it, you open that sassy mouth of yours and tell me. Then we try something different until we figure out what youdolike.”

Spine stiffening, she shuffles forward. I pull her back to me. There’s more to this than she’s letting on, and I won’t quit until I get to the bottom of it.

“Why do you care?” Her voice cracks on the last word, which isn’t at all like her. I should be happy. I wanted to subjugate her—at least I thought I did—and I have.

But not like this. Not when she sounds so… heartbroken.

“You didn’t even want to marry me.”

“That’s true. But wearemarried, and I think, if we work at it, we could be content. Happy, even.”

“I don’t see why me enjoying or not enjoying sex affects you.”

Jesus.I bury my nose in her hair. Who are these fucking guys she’d slept with? Any man worth his salt gets far greater enjoyment by being with a willing partner—one whose pleasure equals their own.

“Believe me, it’s important.”

“Well, then, you’re in for a disappointment.” She sounds detached, the earlier emotion missing from her voice. “It’s all a waste of time. I’m not built that way. I can’t… I can’t orgasm. Not easily, anyway. You’ll get bored.”

I’m not a mind reader, but I’m proficient in reading between the lines. One or both of those pieces of shit she’s been with have made her think this way. I’ve slept with women in the past who take longer to reach climax. All it takes is some fucking patience, watching for bodily cues, and encouraging them to speak up and tell me what they like and what they don’t. What they want more of or less of. Harder, softer, faster, slower.

“I could play with your body all day and not get bored.”

“Yeah, sure.” The laugh she follows up with lacks any mirth.

Lowering my hand to her right hip, I roll her until she’s facing me, and I wait. And wait. And wait. Eventually, she gives me her eyes.

“Have you ever come during a sexual encounter?”

Pink blooms in her cheeks. Evidently, she’s unused to intimate conversations. Well, too bad. I’m not backing down. Communication is how we solve this.

“No.”

“And what about when you masturbate?”

She pulls her gaze away. “Can we not? This is humiliating.”

“You find intimacy humiliating?” I don’t wait for her to reply. “What about if you use a vibrator? Is it easier then?”

“God, Nicholas.” She grabs a pillow and slams it over her face. She mumbles something, her words eaten up by goose feathers and a cotton casing.

I grab the pillow and tear it from her fisted hands. “Talk to me.”

“It’s always hard. I just… I can’t. I tense up. I think I’m broken.” When I smile, she palms my shoulder. “That’s right; laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m… entranced by you.” I quickly peck her lips. “Wait there.”

I enter the bathroom, gathering up the things I need. It gives me a few minutes of alone time to process the last hour. She’d been turned on when I kissed her, but somewhere along the way, she’d let her mind control her body, and that’s when it’d all gone wrong. Sex isn’t cerebral, it’s instinctual. If I get her relaxed enough, she’ll climax.

And when she does, I’m going to be right there to witness her coming undone. Something tells me it’ll be quite the sight. Fuck, I want that. I want to be the one to unlock the door to her pleasure.

After that, I’ll dig for the reason she’s like this. Because there will be one. There’s a difference between a woman who takes a little longer to orgasm and a woman who thinks she’s somehow defective.

When I return to the bedroom, Victoria is hiding beneath the pillow again. I set down the things I got from the bathroom and tug it from her fisted hands. “Roll onto your stomach.”

She peeks at the bottles on the bedside table. “Oils? What for?”

“I’m going to massage you.”

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