Page 55 of The Bachelor

“Remember the purpose of this proposition.” I gave her a second, allowing that to settle in. “You want me to teach you how to be the best lover, and a part of that is control.”

It was obvious she wanted to feel good. She wanted to come. She wanted to know what it felt like when a real man touched her pussy. But the root of all this couldn’t be ignored, or then we’d only be doing this for pleasure.

I couldn’t allow that.

These lessons were designed to not only teach her, but to also scare her off, have her change her mind. And for this one, I knew just how I was going to do that.

“When you only have ten seconds to come, you need to use those seconds to your advantage. When your partner tells you to hold off, there’s a reason, and you need to listen.” I slid up a little higher, rubbing around the outside of her thigh, circling, moving extra slow as I reached the inside of her leg. “Every scenario is going to be different, but control is the common denominator, and that’s what we’re going to focus on. Show me you can take direction, and I promise I’ll reward you.” I inched up a little more, and what I found surprised the hell out of me. “No panties?”

She shook her head. “I thought they’d just get in the way.”

That meant the silky skin beneath my fingers was the edge of her pussy. I’d already known she was fully shaved, that at the top of her lips was the most perfect clit, that about five inches down was the opening to her pussy. I’d seen it. I’d been close enough to touch it. To smell it. I’d just had no idea that it was going to be this soft.

This hot.

This wet, even all the way over here.

“You’re craving me, aren’t you, Oaklyn?” I didn’t give her any time to respond. “Your mind is a fucking war zone with thoughts about how badly you want this. How you need this. How your cunt is desperate for this.”

“I already want to moan.”

Fuck yes.

“Let me hear it,” I ordered.

She glanced to her side, into the open dining room, like she was checking to see if anyone was around.

“See that man in the red shirt, sitting at the table with who I assume is his wife?” I paused for her to find him. “Give him a reason to look over here.” When her eyes connected with mine, I continued, “Make his fucking dick hard.”

Her expression told me she was full of hesitation.

I needed to change that.

So, I flicked my thumb over her clit.

It was that simple movement, that rush of skin on skin, that earned me the sound I wanted to hear.

That, “Ahhh,” that my ears were after.

I caught eyes with the red-shirted man and fucking smiled at him. “Damn, you did good.”

There was greed in her gaze, a look that backed up the noise she’d made.

One that exploded with hunger.

One that showed me the fiery flames in her eyes.

“Now, I want you to do it again.” The second the last word left my mouth, I flicked.

“Ohhh.” Hair fell into her eyes, and she didn’t bother to tuck it back. “Shiiit.”

When the red-shirted dude looked this way a second time, there was a smirk on his face.

He fucking knew.

And I was positive he was getting a hard-on because of it.

“Like goddamn music,” I told her. “Do you want more?”

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