She stiffened. “I wasn’t trying to manipulate them.”
“You wanted them to love you. You should know from the get-go that I don’t believe in love. Going to bed with me isn’t going to get you some romantic drivel from me.”
A little of the glow faded. “Fine. You’re the one who seems so transactional. What does it buy me?”
“Besides pleasure?”
“I might get that and I might not.” History taught her sexual pleasure wasn’t worth much.
“I will grant you your skepticism. All right. Going to bed with me buys you my loyalty and commitment for the duration of the contract, and if we end up discovering we enjoy the relationship, then we can renegotiate the contract. I won’t sleep around. I won’t cheat and I will do my very best to be a good partner to you.”
It wasn’t romantic. He kind of sucked at that part and she couldn’t deny that there was a piece of her that deeply wanted the romantic aspect of a relationship. She wrote romances for a living, but the truth was it was the best offer she’d had in forever. Maybe ever. At least it was honest. “I won’t cheat and I’ll do my best to be a good partner to you.”
His hand tightened on her waist and he sighed as though relieved. “Good. Then come here and kiss me. We’ll go slow, but you have to talk to me. You have to tell me what you like and what doesn’t feel good. There might be times that I ask you to give something a couple of minutes because it takes a while to get used to the sensation, but you’re always in control.”
Because he was in control. That was the way it was between a man and woman. It was a primitive thing. He was bigger and stronger and could take what he wanted, but he was in control of those urges in a way none of her previous lovers had been. They hadn’t controlled themselves long enough for her to come to real pleasure.
“Tell me what you like.” His hand came to the nape of her neck, drawing her mouth to his.
“I like my vibrator.” They were so close that their noses touched, a sweet sensation. “It’s been my main lover for the last year or so.”
“You like a vibe, huh?” He chuckled, and she felt it on her skin as he kissed the bridge of her nose. “I might like to watch you fuck that vibrator. I might like to watch you fuck in and out of your pussy with it.”
“Oh, I like the dirty talk,” she admitted because he would find that out soon enough.
“Good because I definitely like to talk dirty. Tell me something, sweetheart. Is your pussy getting wet?” His lips touched hers, just a caress, a brushing of flesh. “Do you think your little pussy is getting ready for me?”
This was so serious because the answer was yes. She was going to start an affair with a man who didn’t even believe in love, but there was no going back. She was an adult and her eyes were wide open. Well, they were actually half closed in a kind of aroused daze, but she knew what she was doing. She was going to sleep with Will Daley. “Yes, Sir.”
His hips shifted up. “Yeah, that does something for me.” His cock was pressed against her backside, his hips moving. “I like the way you say ‘Sir.’ And I definitely like the way you feel in my arms. Has anyone told you how soft you are, Bridget?”
She wanted to snort and laugh, but he’d caught her and she was somehow under a spell where she forgot to be dismissive and was forced to think about her next words. “No. I don’t think I’m soft. I’m hard. I’m a little jagged if you want to know the truth, and I worry I cut people up when I don’t really mean to.”
His hand closed on her breast. “You are soft. You were born that way, but someone taught you it wasn’t okay. I want you to be soft with me. I want you to feel safe enough to be soft around me.”
His mouth closed over hers and she let her arms drift around, completely willing to give over to him for the moment.
Chapter Five
Will was going to go insane. Bridget Slaten was going to drive him out of his ever-loving mind if she wiggled that hot ass of hers over his cock again. He pressed his lips to hers and groaned when she opened for him, allowing his tongue to slide against hers in a silky brush.
She tasted like cherries. His brain knew it was likely her lip balm, but he was fairly sure the smell and taste of cherries would always be associated with kissing her, with sliding his hands over her body and finally getting close.
She moved against him, her breasts pressing to his chest as she twisted and turned to allow him access. How could she think she was jagged? Oh, she put on a good show, but he was starting to think it was all an act to cover how soft and sweet she was on the inside.
Their tongues played as he got a feel for her breast. A truly spectacular thing. Real and big and so fucking soft. Softness—that was what he wanted, what he’d been looking for in her. She seemed so brazen on the outside, but he was discovering the sub within, and it did something to him. What if he could take this hellcat and make her purr for him and him alone? He’d always thought he wanted a purely submissive woman, but now he saw the advantages. He wouldn’t have to worry about Bridget. She wouldn’t let herself be taken for granted. She would likely whack him upside the head if he got too lost in work.
She could be a real partner if he let her.
Was that what he wanted?
He let the thought go because they didn’t need anything heavy. Not now. For now they needed to enjoy each other, to find out if they could potentially work.
“I want to see you.” He whispered the words against her lips. He could likely have started to ease the clothes off her, but that was too easy. He wanted her to be active. It seemed too much of her sex life had consisted of things that had been done to her. He wanted her with him, not waiting to see what he would do. “Take your clothes off for me.”
It was a calculated risk. Despite his belief that she’d likely had a lot of experience, she seemed shy. It could be an act or his instincts could be off. It wouldn’t be the first time, but whatever the issue was, he didn’t want to lose her. He’d given her an out and if she walked away now he might howl his frustration.
She stopped and he watched as she bit her bottom lip and seemed to come to a decision. She got off his lap, and he hated the loss of her weight, her warmth. She felt right to him in a way other women hadn’t. The women he’d dated during college and med school had been all about scratching an itch—for both of them. He’d carefully selected women as ambitious as he was, who wanted no ties. After a few years of his residency, he’d met a friend who took him to a club and he’d figured out why none of his relationships filled his soul. He needed some form of D/s to feel complete.