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"Confident? Outspoken?" She raises a shoulder. "Trust me, it got me into a whole lot of trouble, too."
"I know," I murmur.
She must sense I’m remembering her run in with Diego when I came to her room all those years ago, for her features soften. "I never got a chance to experiment down there."
"You mean you’ve never—"
"M-masturbated before? N-no," she whispers.
This time, I don’t bother hiding the surprise on my features. "You’re kidding."
She folds her arms across her chest. "Can I go now?"
10
Solene
"Nope, no fucking way. Not until we fix this thing," he drawls.
Madonna santa!For the love of all that’s holy, this asshole is intent on stripping me of all vestiges of self-respect.
"What do you mean fix this thing?"
"I’m going to show you where your clit is."
I back up until I’m flush against the wall of the bathroom. "No way."
"Yes way."
"I’m not letting you touch me."
"I’m not going to touch you," he says with conviction.
"Right, that whole thing of making me 'come'"—I make air quotes—"without you touching me."
"Correct." His lips twitch. "Now take off your dress."
"What? No!"
The smile vanishes. "You will do as I say."
I scowl at him, and for some strange reason, I want to stamp my foot and yell at him. But that would only confirm to him that I'm young and inexperienced; and while that may be true, I’m not going to reinforce that image to him.
"Solene, take off your dress.”
His hard mean voice ricochets off my heart and arrows straight to my core. I tremble. Something knotted inside of me eases and a pulse flares to life between my legs. With trembling fingers, I shrug off the dress and let it drop to the floor next to me.
His breathing grows rapid, the rise and fall of his chest increasing in intensity. Other than that, there is no other change in expression on his face. He merely folds his arms across his chest, then nods toward my panties.
"Slip those off." His voice brooks no argument.
This time, I don’t even try to protest. There’s something about his assertiveness that elicits a response from me I’m not able to control, something about the confidence in his stance, about how relaxed he still is, like this is an everyday occurrence, that both puts me at ease and makes me want to question exactly what it is that’s happening here—though, perhaps that’s a thought I’ll save for later. For now, it’s almost a relief to hand over control to him.
"Take off your bra."
I do.
"Now slide your legs apart."
