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“You mean how do you touch me in my dreams?” Her low, husky voice rushed blood to my cock, but I didn’t bother trying to hide the fact she turned me on. Honesty, and all that shit.
“Yes.”
“Gently.” She swallowed but held my gaze with surprising strength for an innocent. “With your fingertips until I grow accustomed to the feeling.”
“Where?” My voice sounded strangled as my self-control wavered at the images flashing through my mind.
“Here.” She lifted her hand and glanced at her upright palm.
Fuck my usual stance on spontaneity being a hard limit for me. I needed to fucking know, and if my Dom instincts were any good—which they fucking were—I was well aware of how to get her submissive side to comply.
Consensually, of course.
She could deny me, and I would submit to her having the power in that moment.
“If I ask anything you aren’t comfortable answering, just say so. Okay?”
She nodded.
“I need words, Jasmine.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Where else do I touch you? Put your wine down and show me.” I used my Dom voice and relaxed back into my recliner, legs spread, giving her an eyeful of the hard ridge lining my jeans.
Her attention drifted down between my thighs, her lips parting on a sharp inhale.
Fucking hell, this woman.
Trembling, she set the wine glass on the table beside her as though her brain linked directly to my command. When she sat back, she uncrossed her legs but kept her knees pressed together, the darkness beneath her casual skirt beckoning to me. “H-Here.” She slowly trailed her fingers up her arm, over her collarbone where she lingered. Up her neck and with painstaking hesitancy over her lips.
I groaned. “Where else, Jasmine?”
She swallowed, gaze still on my cock, and ran her hand back down her neck and over the swell of her breasts.
“Show me.” My tone held firm, and she followed the request without hesitation, slipping her hand up inside her tank top. Lower lip between her teeth, she squirmed on the couch, same as when I’d caught her drooling over sex toys online.
“Is my touch still gentle?” I asked, my attention glued to the hand moving beneath her shirt, hiding one of the hard nipples pressing against the cotton.
“N-Not so much.” Her needy tone brought another groan to my lips.
Christ.
“Where else do I put my hands on you in your dreams?”
Face red, she closed her eyes.
“Jasmine?” I checked in. “We can stop if you want.”
“N-No!” She shook her head quickly. “You suck on my breasts. Bite my nipples.” The words rushed from her, filling my head with curses.
I swallowed hard. “And do you like it? That little bit of pain?”
“Yes,” she gasped and clenched her legs together as she played with her breasts. “Sometimes…sometimes I imagine you use clamps on them.” She nibbled on her lower lip.
I’d never wanted a woman so much in my fucking life. Blood pulsed in my ears, my dick. I peered at the darkness beneath her skirt, my cock aching. “Are you turned on right now?”
She whimpered and nodded, still chewing on that goddamned lip I wanted to soothe with my tongue.
