Page 38 of Little Did You Know

I slowed my approach, letting my voice drop to that low register that had made her shiver before. "I'm not going to fuck you tonight, Olivia." The crude word felt sharp against the softness of her name, exactly the contrast I intended.

Confusion painted her features as she reached for the hem of her silk nightgown. Her fingers trembled against the fabric, creating tiny ripples that caught the light. Before she could retreat into that fear, I closed the distance between us. The heat of her skin radiated through the thin silk as I captured her hands in mine.

"Let me help you," I breathed against her temple, feeling her pulse flutter beneath my lips. I traced each knuckle with my thumbs. Each brush of my thumbs across her knuckles was measured, deliberate—transforming nervous energy into something darker, hungrier. The silk whispered between us as her breathing changed, shallow and quick.

I drew back just enough to watch the shift in her eyes—fear melting into something molten that made my control slip another notch.

Pulling her hands over her head, I leaned down to her ear, allowing my mouth to brush against her ear gently. "Don't drop your arms." Releasing her hands, they remained in the air; I slowly pulled the silky lingerie over her head, freeing her large breasts.

I discarded the sleepwear, dropping it to the ground, and her arms fell to her side. Stepping back, I admired the view; she was stunning.

I closed the space between us, placing a chastising kiss on her lips as I gripped her around the waist, lifting her and setting her on the bed. "I'm going to help you learn to masturbate." Her head shot up nervously. "But you have to do exactly what I tell you." She nodded. "If you feel uncomfortable at any time, tell me." She nodded again.

"Lay flat on the bed." The words hung heavy in the moonlit room. She complied with a grace that made my throat tight. The mattress dipped beneath her weight, and I found myself memorizing each detail—the way her hair spilled across the pillow, how her fingers curled slightly into the sheets.

"Place your feet flat on the bed, knees up." My voice had dropped to that rough whisper that lived somewhere between control and desire. She moved like a dream in slow motion, each shift deliberate as though she knew exactly what she was doing to my sanity.

I retreated to the foot of the bed, needing distance to maintain any semblance of control. "Spread your legs." The words scraped raw in my throat. "Farther." Each inch revealed was an exquisite torture, the moonlight turning her skin to pearl. "Perfect." The praise fell from my lips unbidden, rewarded by the slight catch in her breath.

"Place your hand between your legs." My gaze followed the slow descent of her hand, the way her fingers trembled slightly as they traced a path down her abdomen. She was teasing me without even knowing it, each hesitant movement stoking the fire in my blood. Her hand stilled at her core, waiting.

"Run your fingers over yourself, baby." The endearment slipped out rough and low. Her eyes fluttered closed as she explored, and I watched her discover pleasure for the first time. The sight burned itself into my memory—her lips parting on a soft gasp, the arch of her spine, the way her free hand clutched at the sheets.

"Are you wet?" The question hung between us like smoke. Her nod was almost shy, but there was nothing innocent about the way her body moved. Each circle of her fingers drew out new sounds—tiny whimpers and sighs that made my control fray at the edges.

"Find what feels good." I could barely force the words out past the thickness in my throat. The moment she found that spot, her whole body went taut like a bowstring. "And..." The rest of the instruction died as she let out a sound that nearly broke me.

"Nick," she breathed, the sound somewhere between question and plea. My name on her lips sent electricity down my spine. "I want..."

"What do you want?" I kept my voice steady even as my pulse thundered in my ears. The moonlight caught the uncertainty in her eyes, warring with something darker, hungrier.

"I want you to..." Her courage faltered, a blush creeping down her neck. The sight made my mouth go dry.

"Say it, Olivia." I gentled my tone despite the way desire roughened my voice. In the silver light, I watched determination replace hesitation in her expression.

"I want you to..." The words tumbled out in a rush, but her gaze held mine without flinching. "Touch yourself while I..." She bit her lip, the gesture innocent and maddening.

A slow smile curved my lips as heat pooled low in my stomach. "You want to watch me stroke myself while you touch yourself?" The crude words against her innocence made her shiver visibly. "Want us to come together?"

"Yes." The single word carried enough heat to make my control slip another notch.

I shifted on the bed, letting her see the effect she had on me through thin cotton before shoving down my boxers setting my cock free. Her gaze tracked the movement, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of color remained. "Don't stop," I commanded softly, watching her fingers resume their exploration as I claimed my space between her feet. The first stroke against myself drew a groan that mingled with her soft gasp.

Each movement became a mirror—her pace dictating mine, my reactions spurring her on. The moonlight played across her skin, turning every arch and tremor into art. Her free hand clutched at the sheets, knuckles white with tension. The sight of her learning her own body while watching me nearly undid my careful control.

When her breath started coming in short pants, I knew she was close. "Look at me," I growled softly. Her eyes flew open, heavy-lidded but locked on mine. The intimacy of holding her gaze as pleasure built between us was more intense than any physical touch.

She released a loud moan as she found her first climax, and I thrust my cock in and out of my hand until I exploded on her stomach.

I collapsed beside her, pulse still thundering in my ears. The weight of what we'd just shared settled over me like a physical thing. Part of me wanted to pull her close, whisper all the things I shouldn't feel.

The silence stretched between us, heavy with the aftermath. "Are you okay?" The roughness in my voice surprised me.

"Uh-huh." She propped herself up on one elbow, her gaze dropping to the evidence glistening on her stomach in the. A blush crept across her chest.

I rolled to my feet, muscles pleasantly loose. "C'mon. Let's get a shower."

Her eyes went wide, lips parting. "Together?" The word came out squeaky, somewhere between shock and anticipation.

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