“But you couldn’t talk to me to ask.”
“Could only watch you from afar.” He reached for one of my br**sts, thumbing my nipple. “Are these sore?”
I could barely keep my eyes open as he stroked me. “A little. But I kind of like it. A constant reminder of the things we did.”
He made a sound of approval. “We’ve established that you’re hot-blooded—and you know your own mind. Yet you were a virgin?”
When he moved to my other breast, my lids slid shut. “I had some bad experiences.”
Dropping his hands, he tensed around me, gritting out one word: “Names.”
My eyes went wide. “No, no, not like that! I had some unfortunate, clumsy experiences, I should say.”
“I don’t understand.”
So I told him about the guy who spooged into his condom. “He fled after that, never to be heard from again. I wasted weeks on that guy.”
“Now that I know what he’d been so close to experiencing, I could almost pity him.”
Awww. “I dated another guy for a couple of months, but I’m pretty sure he was a subbie. There were a few others who just weren’t worth the bother.”
Looking back, I could see that I’d been waiting for a man’s man—one older than me, a lot more dominant, with some rough and dangerous edges. In other words, not your typical UNL student.
“Their loss is my gain.”
I trailed my nails over his forearm. “I didn’t want to be a virgin. Do you know how challenging it was to be sex-positive and progressive on a college campus and still be virginal? At my age? It was like a dirty little secret.”
In a grave tone, he said, “I’m glad I was able to be of service with that.”
Grinning, I turned to face him better, hanging my legs over his outer thigh. “So what’s your story?”
“Story?” He seemed disconcerted that the conversation had steered toward him.
“This is where we trade dating tales.”
He gave me an I-got-nothing look.
“You really haven’t spent a lot of time with women outside of sex, have you?”
“Not at all.” He began massaging my feet, working bath oil up my surprisingly sore calves.
“How did you usually find, well, bedmates? I don’t suppose there were mafiya mixers?”
He raised his brows at that. “I would go to a bar or a scene club and wait for a woman to approach,” he said without conceit, just stating the facts. “I’d stay for the time span of a few drinks; the situation would either resolve itself or not.”
My face flushed when I realized I’d been one of those approaching women. “So when I hit on you that first night, you equated me with them?”
He shrugged.
“You didn’t date any of the women you slept with? No going to a movie or out for coffee?” I couldn’t picture him doing either.
“Never.”
“Aside from our dinners on the road, was tonight your first real date?”
“Yes.” As I hid my surprise, he added, “How am I doing?”
My heart fluttered. “Judges’ scores of ten.”
He frowned. “I shouldn’t have admitted that to you, I suppose.”
“No, you should have. I love”—everything I learn about you—“hearing new things about you.”
“My first date, your first flogging,” he said with amusement.
“I adored what you did to me.”
“Tonight I realized that I can torment you and treasure you. For you, it can be one and the same.” His hands began ascending my legs. “And there’s much more to show you.”
My breaths shallowed. “I want to see it all.”
“I’m having supplies delivered tomorrow. We’ll take it slowly, but be prepared for wherever this leads us.”
“You really knew your way around this stuff.” Though I spread my thighs in welcome, he simply teased me with those light circles. “How long have you been doing it?”
“Awhile.”
Evasive much? “Now will you tell me about your particular interests?” With his fingers at work, I fought to keep my concentration. “When did you recognize them?”
He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it.
“Please tell me. I’d like to know, since I benefited from those interests so much.”
“I will, one day. For now, I don’t want to think that far back into the past.” How far back? “Know this: before you, I participated, but now I see those encounters for what they truly were.”
“What?”
His gaze held mine. “Practice.”
“For me?”
“For you.”
I couldn’t stop the slow grin that spread over my face.
His eyes dipped to it, darkening. “There will be rules, Natalie.” He reached between my thighs at last, palming me with a sure grip. “This is mine. I’m the only one who gets to pet you here. I plan to keep you well pleased, but if you ever need to come, you wait for me—or for my command.”
“So I’m never to play with myself in front of a camera for you?” I wriggled over his erection, making him inhale sharply.
“I’ll order you to do that again—at a time when I can properly enjoy it. I was in a meeting that day when I stole a look at you.” Against my damp neck, he said, “I shot hard as rock, had to rush out of the building. The phone shook in my hand the entire way back to you.”