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“Nah, I’m fine.” Who cares if it hurts? Her fingertips are light on my wrists, her small face intent as she studies the marks. Her fingers dance up my arm, to the tattoos.
“Pax.” I wait until she looks up. “Let me touch you, too. Let’s try.”
“No.” She shakes her head, pulls away. I see the fear darkening her gaze, her defenses dropping into place. “I can’t.”
“You touched me.” Everywhere. “I want to pleasure you, too.” I swallow hard. “It’s what I’m here for, Pax.”
“Seeing you come was a pleasure,” she says, and her cheekbones flush.
It sends a bolt of hot need straight to my
dick.
Down, boy. Enough.
“I want to take care of you.” I force myself not to reach for her, not when she’s skittish like a kitten. “I want to make you come, too. You’re beautiful.”
Her flush deepens. “God, I wish...I wish I could do this already.”
Sex. God, I wish that, too.
“It’s okay.” Stupid, Riot, pushing her when she’s not ready. What she did today blew my mind. “You’re not afraid of me anymore, are you?”
“I don’t think so.” A faint smile that makes my heart pound, and then she’s on her feet.
Moving away from me, like every time. Leaving.
Sitting naked on the bed, making no move to dress, I watch her gather her things and prepare to go. I don’t ask her if I’ll see her again.
Christ. I shouldn’t. I really fucking shouldn’t. Shouldn’t go after her, ask her to stay.
Please, Pax. Please stay. I rub my hands over my face, press the heels of my palms into my eyes. What’s happening to me?
Chapter Eleven
Paxtyn
Riot tied to the bed. Naked. Head thrown back, long lashes hiding his eyes, his body trembling. Lost in pleasure.
Oh God.
I stroke my forefinger over my lips. His mouth tasted dark and hot, a little bitter, like rosemary and nicotine. Such a male taste. Just the memory of it makes my skin warm and my insides clench.
“Let me touch you, Pax. I want to pleasure you. It’s what I’m here for.”
Shit. I can imagine the feel of his large hands on my body. I remember it from our first terrible meeting.
I want to feel them again, feel him, naked, against me. In me.
How am I supposed to focus on child psychology class like this? I throb so badly between my legs it’s uncomfortable. Can’t wait to see Riot again, try more.
Let him touch me, like he says, pleasure me. Beg him to. Feel his arms around me as he kisses me. I’m terrified that I’ll freeze or panic, but our last sessions have given me hope. He’s right. I’m not so afraid of him anymore. I’m used to his face, his body, his voice.
Insanely attracted to them, in fact, but that’s also fine, right?
As the class ends and I gather my things and get up, my cell dings with a text from Corey. He wants to get a tattoo and he’s been pestering me to go with him. Man, I really hope it’s not anything he’ll regret later on. He’s still hung up on the guy who dumped him, even though Corey himself has dumped two more men since then.
Jeez.
