Page 18 of On Thin Ice

It took me a second to realize that he was wanting to make this first time all about me…but I had a confession. How would I tell him? Really, there was no way to do it other than to come out and say it. “I’m…a virgin, so—”

His pupils grew even larger, as if he’d been caught stealing. “In that case, I can’t possibly—”

“Oh, yes, you can—and you will. I want this. I want this with you.”

Already, though, I could feel how he’d cooled—almost as if he’d jumped in an icy shower…and his eyes told me he was at war with himself. Finally, he said, “Your first time can’t be me ripping your dress off and pounding into you, as much as I’d like that.” A small grin spread across his face, probably because he read in my eyes that I wouldn’t mind that either. “Wait here.”

And, with that, he crossed the bedroom, entering another room—the bathroom. It wasn’t long before I heard water running and I wondered what exactly he was doing. I sat up on the bed, taking in more details of his most personal space. While it was attractive, it also felt spartan in that there was no artwork on the walls, no decorative touches like I’d seen in the rest of the mansion. Everything in this room was practical and had a purpose—reminding me of the man who occupied it.

I got up off the bed, kicking off my sandals and walking over to the bathroom. Although he’d told me to wait, I didn’t want to. I’d already told him more than once that I wanted this, wanted him…and I didn’t want to wait.

The colors in the bathroom matched the bedroom—dark and moody—but the large tub against the wall was white, as were the two sinks across from it, next to the toilet. Against one wall was a shower with floor-to-ceiling glass, dark tiles behind it. Again, beautiful yet austere.

So Sinclair.

I felt a pang in my heart…because it really did feel like the man—strong, brave, intractable…

And so alone.

But I was here now—and it all felt so right.

He was filling the tub with water and bubbles, and part of me wanted to ask where he got bubble bath, because he didn’t seem the type to indulge…but, thinking about the laptop I used daily that belonged to a woman who fancied herself the future Missus, maybe I didn’t want to know.

At first, I expected Sinclair to be angry with me for disobeying his request to wait—but his eyes said something far different. He pulled me close and kissed my forehead, just holding me close while the tub filled. Finally, he said, “Your first time should be special. I’m no expert, but I’ll do my best.”

“This looks like a good start.”

His rakish smile returned, causing my pussy to clench with rampant desire, and I mentally tried convincing myself that whatever he had planned would be special. I supposed he had a good start, considering I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken a bath instead of a shower, much less a bubble bath.

Then he closed the gap between us and kissed me lightly, his hands roaming all over my back and then my sides, sending shivers throughout my body. Finally, he realized there were no zippers or buttons and, as his lips moved to my neck, he began peeling the dress off me much like he might get to the center of an orange. As he pulled it down my body, his lips followed, kissing the crest of one of my breasts peeking out of the lace pink bra, getting on his knees as he brought the dress over my hips. Then he kissed the flesh just below my belly button, and I thought I might jump out of my skin as he got closer and closer to that pulsating core below.

But he let the dress fall on the floor, having exposed my matching pink panties, and then he stood. The tub was almost full now, so I asked, “Should I shut it off?”

The small smirk reappeared on his mouth. “You should just stand there looking beautiful.” Leaning over, he turned off the water and stood as he took in my body with his eyes. I felt self-conscious because no one had ever looked at me the way he was—and I’d never been this exposed. “And I believe you are the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen.”

Did he really mean that? I bit my lower lip, wondering what would come next—and he loosened his tie before removing it, setting it carefully on the counter between the sinks. Then he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, all while taking me in with his eyes. But soon I was looking at his fingers, curious myself as to what he looked like underneath his clothes. It was almost like he was unwrapping a present.

After he undid the last button, he pulled off the shirt, setting it on top of the tie, and I drank in every detail—the masculine pecs that I wanted to touch, the hard abs, the swollen biceps—and a small black tattoo on his right upper arm. I wouldn’t have imagined I’d find something like that on him. Because of the scar on his lip, I’d expected to find other scars as well, but he seemed to be a perfect male specimen. Below his navel was a small line of hair that disappeared underneath the waistband of his pants.

When my eyes met his again, he gave me a small grin as if he could read my thoughts. “Are you ready to get in the tub?”

“Um, sure.” I still didn’t know exactly where all this was going, but I knew I had to trust him. He could have ravaged me back on his bed and had chosen not to—so, whatever this night promised, I knew I could trust the man I was with.

When I reached behind my back to unclasp my bra, he said, “Here. Let me.” He walked around behind me and took both sides in his hand as his mouth lowered to my neck. Then, once the bra was undone, he loosened it, letting the straps fall down my arms. Sliding his hands around to the front, he cupped both my breasts and I couldn’t help the slight gasp that escaped my lips. He began kneading my areolas between his thumbs and forefingers gently, waking up every nerve in my body once again.

I could hardly wait.

The way my back arched into the pleasure of his hands caused my rear to push into his body—and that was when I felt his hardness against my back…a steel rod of pleasure that I’d read about for years but had never experienced myself.

But I could hardly concentrate as his hands began sliding down my belly to my panties, the area where I desperately wanted his attention. He slid several fingers under both sides along my hips, easing them down my thighs until they too dropped.

Then he backed off and slapped me on the ass. “Get in.”

His slap had been playful and hadn’t stung at all, but it reminded me of the time several weeks ago when I’d taunted him to spank me.

I tested the water with my toe first, and it was overly warm, but I knew I’d get used to it. As I stepped in, I looked at Sinclair again. He was picking up my clothes off the floor, setting them on the counter next to his.

Far more thoughtful than I’d ever thought he was.

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