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I expected him to push the issue, ask for more details about my previous relationships. But he didn’t, swooping my hand up and bringing it to his lips. I doubted I’d ever tire of him kissing my hand like this. So soft. So reverent. So intoxicating.
“That changes tonight.”
He turned over my hand, kissing the inside of my wrist. Such an obscure place on the body, one most people wouldn’t think twice about. But when he pressed a lingering kiss there, my pulse skyrocketed, mouth growing dry, breaths coming quicker.
“Tonight, my beautiful Belle, will most certainly be about all your needs.” He pressed one last kiss to my wrist, then lowered my hand back to the table. “Although, I must confess… Your lackluster sexual experience does make me a little happy.”
“Happy?”
He leaned toward me, pushing a tendril of hair behind my ear, then dropped his mouth to my neck, his breath warm on my skin. Anticipation coiled within, winding me tight, every muscle taut.
“Absolutely. Because I get to be the one to help you discover what you like.” He lingered there for a beat, then pulled back. “It’s like working with a blank slate.”
“A blank slate?”
“Exactly. You’re not coming into this with any preconceived notions. So I can show you what sex should be like. Help you figure out what turns you on. And, conversely, what turns you off.” His voice was even, gaze unaffected, as if he were discussing the stock market or last quarter’s profit-and-loss report.
“How can you stay so calm talking about this kind of thing?”
“You mean sex?”
“Yes. I don’t know how things are where you’re from, but sex isn’t normal dinner conversation.”
“We’re not exactly a normal couple. Are we?”
I smiled. “I suppose not.”
“Even so, I don’t find anything improper about what we’re discussing. I like sex. So it would inevitably follow that I like to talk about it, too. But don’t let appearances fool you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You asked how I could remain so calm talking about sex. I’m not.”
I raised a brow. “You’re not?”
A contemplative expression covered his face before he admitted, “You intimidate me.”
I straightened, taken aback. “Me? Why? How?”
He chewed on his bottom lip as his gaze skated over my body. “You honestly don’t realize how stunning you are, do you?”
“I guess it’s been a while since I’ve been with someone who made me feel beautiful.”
“Why do you believe you need someone to make you feel beautiful? Why can’t you make yourself feel beautiful?”
I never really thought about that. I’d always done everything I could to earn the approval of others. Probably the consequences of losing my mom at an early age and being put into foster care. I didn’t remember much about that time, but I did recall wanting to feel loved again… Like my mother made me feel.
When I’d learned I was going to be adopted, I was thrilled with the prospect of having a family again. Of having love again.
Unfortunately, I was adopted by a woman who wouldn’t know love if it smacked her in the face. Still, I was desperate to earn her approval and love, even though she’d proven time and again she was incapable of giving either of those things.
“I didn’t think I’d ever achieve happiness on my own,” I finally answered.
“I may be young, but one of the most important lessons my mother taught me is that happiness, true happiness, can only be found within. The people you surround yourself with only help that happiness shine.”
I blinked, his words hitting me on a deeper and more profound level than I expected, particularly from someone with whom I was only supposed to have a week of no-strings sex.
Not to mention someone so much younger than me.
